


A Hard Day's Night

by katesalwaystrying



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Zuko (Avatar), Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), I Watched Too Much Grey's Anatomy, Inspired by Grey's Anatomy, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Medical Professionals, Medical School, Men Crying, Minor Aang/Katara, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Pre-Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Protective Sokka (Avatar), Sokka and Zuko dated in medical school, Sokka gives hugs, Surgeons, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko has a heart, Zuko is a heart surgeon, death of a minor character, i am trash, sokka/zuko - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katesalwaystrying/pseuds/katesalwaystrying
Summary: “The interns call him ‘Fire Lord.’ The rest of us call him Zuko.” Aang nodded his head in the direction of the surgeon in red scrubs. Sokka’s eyebrows shot up when he laid eyes on the dark-haired attending. Surprisingly enough, that man hadn’t changed in the eight years they’d been apart.I've watched too much Grey's Anatomy this quarantine... so naturally I have to make a Zukka fic about it (because that's what I do now). This will definitely have multiple installments, but they'll have different storylines. Each "episode" will be titled with a song, just like classic Grey's! Enjoy the trash!...also you have no idea how hard this was to write without knowing anyone's last names.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 89
Kudos: 327





	1. These Broken Hands Of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sokka's first day as Chief of Pediatric Surgery at Omashu Grace Hospital. He's not there a few moments before running into an old lover... the "Fire Lord" Zuko: the Chief of the Cardio-Thoracic department. When a surgery goes horribly wrong, they find themselves forced to confront harsh realities.

Sokka strutted onto the sixth floor of Omashu Grace Hospital. In one fell swoop, he tossed his white coat over his shoulder, brushing off the fresh embroidery spelling out his name above his new title: Chief of Pediatric Surgery. That had a nice ring to it.

Quickly, his eyes dart around the bustling nurse’s station for the chief resident, Aang. Rather, he’s the resident who was supposed to be orienting him to his new workplace. His hiring officer described him as “bald, spry, and hard to miss.” When Aang opened his mouth to introduce himself, Sokka finally understood what they meant.

“Ah! Hi! Hello!” Aang’s orange scrubs practically blinded him as much as his shaved head did. This kid couldn’t be old enough to make chief resident. “You must be Sokka! Hello, hello! Welcome to Omashu Grace!”

Luckily, Sokka was a _pediatric_ surgeon. Dealing with kids (and their energy) was quite literally his day job. He released a centering breath and lowered his shoulders. The trick is to stay as calm as possible. They can smell fear.

“Great to meet you, Aang.” He held his hand out for an excited, rigorous shaking. “You’re the new up-and-coming peds resident I’ve heard so much about?” Okay, that was a lie. Still, Sokka assumed someone would have a lot to say about it anyways.

Aang’s face turned bright red as he smiled up at his new mentor. “Well, I wish we could get started today, but I’m on Suki’s service down in the pit. I need to log more trauma hours… still!” He jumped. “You’re assisting on a surgery today!”

“Oh?” Sokka perked up as a chart was shoved into his hands by an eerily vigilant nurse behind them. He flopped the blue binder open: Rorri, age 21, mitral valve leak.

“The chief thought it would be nice for you to really get a feel for the OR culture here. A good warmup.” Aang pulled an apple out of his scrub pocket, taking a firm, loud bite.

“Where’s the attending on the case, then?” Sokka raised an eyebrow at his new little friend.

“The interns call him ‘Fire Lord.’ The rest of us call him Zuko.” Aang nodded his head in the direction of the surgeon in red scrubs. Sokka’s eyebrows shot up when he laid eyes on the dark-haired attending. Surprisingly enough, that man hadn’t changed in the eight years they’d been apart.

“If he’s anything like he was in school, I understand why they call him that.” Sokka shook his head when he could finally manage a few words, glancing back down at the chart in front of him in some sort of a half-hearted attempt to think about literally anything other than Zuko.

“No way!” Aang perked up, taking another massive bite of his apple. “You two knew each other back in the day?”

“Knew each other?” Sokka laughed a little too loudly and turned to face the chief resident. “He was my boyfriend for half of med school. We only broke up because–”

“Because I landed a spot in a _real_ internship program at a _real_ hospital? Unlike someone here...” Zuko interrupted while materializing behind them suddenly, causing Sokka to stifle a startled yelp. “How did Community South treat you, Sokka?” He let out one of his heart-melting laughs that Sokka used to love so much. Whenever Zuko laughed, it made everyone around him stop and stare. It was such an unusual occurrence that you needed to stand at attention to fully enjoy it.

Sokka’s eyes practically fell out of his head. Zuko looked even better up close. Like a fine wine, he somehow looks even better than he did in medical school. He looked older now, obviously, but his eyes looked almost too old for their age. It was painfully apparent that Zuko was an aged, stressed soul that just so happened to be living in a body hand-crafted by God himself, which made for an odd match.

“Uhhh, yeah.” He scratched the stubbled hair beneath his ponytail. “Residency was, uh, good. Glad to be past it, though, ya know?” He chuckled nervously as a bead of sweat traveled down his spine, barely sliding between his shoulder blades.

“Well, if I were you I’d be glad to leave that place, too. Glad you could escape to this paradise.” He shook his head, tossing a chart onto the nurse’s station counter. “What’s your specialty nowadays, boomerang?”

“I’m sorry.” Aang coughed, an apple slice obviously catching him off guard. “What kind of a nickname is _that?”_

“Ahhh.” Sokka mentally sank through the floor. Shit. “It’s, uh, just a stupid nickname from college.” Sokka forced a smile, biting his lip and praying that it wouldn’t catch on here.

“It was this silly trick he would always use on girls in college.” Zuko raised his eyebrows as a nurse shoved a different chart into his hands. He haphazardly signed off on a page or two. “He would take them out to the quad and teach them how to throw.”

Words could not describe how quickly Aang’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. He raised his apple up to his mouth with the speed of molasses, taking a slow bite. This was _far_ better than what happened last week when Toph from H.R. caught him and Katara from OB in an on-call room. This show is way more juicy.

“It’s only silly if it doesn’t work.” Sokka cocked his head. “And it worked.” On Zuko, too, might he add. Sokka let his restraint get the better of him. “So, what’s _your_ specialty, then, Sparky?”

 _“Sparky!?”_ Aang practically snorted apple chunks through his nose. His voice elevated and cracked so intensely that Sokka could hardly tell it was a word at all.

“That’s got a far better story than _Boomerang._ ” Sokka raised his eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Zuko gave him a look of feigned betrayal, dropping his jaw and tilting his head. The two battered on back and forth about how Zuko’s accidental defibrillation of a student during a practice run while Aang looked on in absolute shock.

Zuko was the _Fire Lord,_ not a fluffy, charming, joke-cracking med school buddy. Aang had never seen Zuko act like this in his five years at Omashu Grace. On the first day of residency, big-scary-cardio-fellow-Zuko had made one of his classmates cry during a practical exam because she was clicking her pen too much.

“Well, I’d suggest that we go out for a drink to catch up, but if you’re anything like you were in med school, you don’t have any room for joy in your life.” Sokka’s blue eyes glistened with mischief and restraint as Aang drifted back in tune with the conversation.

“I think you’ll find that I have just enough room for you.” Zuko finished scribbling his signature on one final chart and began his strut away from them. _What a freaking flirt,_ Sokka thought.

“Oh! Zuko!” Aang called after him, triggering a silent but massive sigh from Sokka. “Day’s not over for you yet. Your girl, Rorri? She came to the ER last night. Mitral valve repair. All yours.” Aang’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Oh, and Sokka’s your assist.”

The silence that followed was life-changing.

“She’s not a peds case.” Zuko uttered without turning. Sokka could practically see heat radiating off of him.

“Close enough.” Aang smiled. “Chief’s orders.”

“Well, then.” Zuko turned, a forced smile on his face. “It’s a pleasure to scrub in with you again, Sokka.” He outstretched a hand. Because _that’s_ what you do when you find out that you’ll be in a three-hour surgery with your ex-boyfriend.

When Sokka took his hand, he felt the hairs on his arm stand up straight. He hadn’t contacted this man, much less _touched_ him, in eight years. For half a second, Sokka thought he _missed_ it.

“I’ll, uh, go check on her while you get the O.R. prepped.” Sokka pulled his hand back, sweating slightly as he saw Zuko run his hand back through his floppy hair. How would he be expected to focus on a surgery with _that_ standing across from him?

The two parted ways, Sokka’s eyes exaggeratedly wide as he swung into his patient’s room. The chief of surgery approached the nurses station, ready to run Sokka through their surgery later today, but instead merely interrupted Aang’s enjoyment of the show.

“What’s the new guy doing with Zuko? I thought he was scrubbing in on my bowel resection.” Chief Pakku put his hands on his hips.

“Nurse gave him the wrong chart.” Aang shrugged. “I just… didn’t correct her.”

* * *

“So, Zuko must be one hell of a cardiologist for you to come back _this_ many times.” Sokka joked with the tired girl in the bed. "It's almost like you have a condition or something."

“Oh, yeah, it's all a big sham." She laughed. "I mean, are you kidding me? Have you ever _looked at him?”_ She shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust my heart in anyone else’s hands.” Sokka smirked, sifting through her chart to find her record her vital readings. He couldn’t make a mistake on his first day. This patient would define his career at this hospital. Whatever happened today would set the trajectory for his next decade as a doctor.

And, you know, it was made incredibly harder by the fact that Zuko’s collarbone is visible beneath his scrub top. Sokka pushed the thought out of his mind with a gentle shake of his head.

“From what I’ve heard, his skills have something to do with that claim.” He smiled at her, suddenly remembering all of his patient care courses from med school. “He’s on a streak. Hasn’t lost a patient in four weeks.”

“Rule number one,” Zuko slapped Sokka’s back, “you don’t tell the patient about the streak.”

 _“Dammit, Zuko!”_ Sokka practically tossed the chart out of fear. “We have to get you a bell or something.”

Zuko ignored him and turned to the girl in the bed. “Rorri, we gotta stop meeting like this.” He took on such a different air that Sokka had no choice but to stop and blink. His stance completely shifted as his hands dropped from his hips, his voice relaxed significantly from his typical authoritative tone, and his scowl shifted into more of a gentle smile. Sokka had never seen anything like it. “You’ve gotta promise to lighten your course load. Your heart is taking too much stress. Next semester, you'll tone it down. Promise?" He looked up at her with a stern-yet-gentle look that only Zuko knew how to pull.

“I _would_ say ‘cross my heart and hope to die,’ but I don’t know how that would make you feel.” The girl in the bed looked tired. Her face was hollowed and tired as only a college student’s face could be. Still, she put on a smile for Zuko.

“Smart kid.” He shook his head. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” He snagged the chart from Sokka’s hands, swinging it open to double-check the diagnosis. “We’re going to take you up to surgery.”

“Surgery?” Her hand drifted to her heart. “My valve?”

“It’s a simple operation. I’ve done it at least a hundred times. Absolutely nothing to worry about.” Sokka looked on as Zuko gave her a heart-warming, compassionate smile. Back in med school, he practically flunked out based on bedside manner alone. Sokka was surprised to see such genuine compassion in a guy who told the girl who passed out at the university blood drive to ‘try harder.’

“So, what happens now?” Rorri swapped her gaze from Sokka to Zuko.

“Well, we’ll double check your labs before starting up, but you look good as of now. In a couple of minutes you’ll get a nice happy cocktail and you’ll let us do the rest. All you need to do is wake up and get better.”

She clutched Zuko’s arm as he went to stand. “Can you promise I’ll be okay? I just…” She shivers violently. “Operating rooms give me anxiety.”

“I know, I know. And that’s not good for your heart now, is it?” He gave her a knowing smile. “Look, I’ve gotten you this far. I’m not gonna let you down now.” Zuko held up his fist for a bump. “We’re the best team at Omashu Grace, remember?”

Rorri rolled her eyes playfully, popping his fist with hers. “Don’t you forget it.”

The pair of doctors strolled out of the room, though their chemistry was quickly stunted by Zuko’s hand slapping the back of Sokka’s head.

“Why’d you have to bring up the streak?” Zuko turned around, cutting Sokka’s path. He stood in what Sokka remembered to be his signature power stance. It was always his way of intimidating their classmates into sacrificing their hours in the cadaver lab to him.

“That’s just a myth, dude.” Sokka shrugged.

“I’m not risking this one. She’s a college kid, a whole life ahead of her. Standard surgery. It should be fine.”

“Yeah, I know. It _will_ be fine. Calm down.” Sokka shook his head, a worried smile on his face. “A stupid med school superstition isn’t going to change her odds.”

Zuko put his hands on his hips, setting his jaw with terrifying authority.

“Sokka, I’ve been with her since my intern year. I’m not taking any chances. Come on, let’s get scrubbed.”

As he strutted away, Sokka watched Zuko’s shoulders rise. He remembered watching those shoulders rise at the desk in front of him during nearly every exam in med school. Well, the ones that Sokka didn’t sleep through, that is. Whenever Zuko couldn’t figure out a diagnosis or remember an answer to a question, those shoulders rose.

He wonders if Zuko remembers the back massages they used to give each other. Sokka shook his head again as if he were trying to make the thought quite literally slip away.

* * *

Zuko’s eyebrows were scrunched in focus as he looked down into Rorri’s chest cavity. Sokka knew that face all too well. The lines on Zuko’s forehead would always get tighter and tighter until the muscles in his face eventually gave out and relaxed, starting the process all over again.

In med school, that would always be Sokka’s cue to tackle the textbook out of his hand and flop him onto the bed. They would laugh about it once Zuko could finally get past the fact that he was wasting time. Sokka remembered tracing circles into Zuko’s back until he would either fall asleep or pretend to get angry at the distraction, whichever happened first. That method was the reason Zuko missed an exam for the first time.

At first, Sokka wasn’t sure if his boyfriend would ever let that one go. Then, he tackled him back onto the bed and all was forgiven.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that now. So, he tried his best to find a fitting substitute.

“She seems like a sweet girl.” Sokka smiled beneath his mask, keeping an eye on the suction tube. “You know her well, then? 8 years is a long time.”

“She was my first patient here.” Zuko’s brows relaxed, signalling to Sokka that his plan was working. “Just 13 years old, absolutely sobbing down in the ER because she passed out during her volleyball game and was just certain she’d be benched for the rest of the season.” He showed a ghost of a smile underneath his mask before letting out a gentle laugh. “I was an intern with something to prove, so I wouldn’t let anyone else touch her. It was such a routine diagnosis that the attending at the time let me assist on her stent placement.”

“No way!” Sokka looked away from the field for a moment. “A stent was my first surgery, too.” He smiled to himself at the irony of it all. In school, Zuko would always pick on him for wanting to go into cardio when he obviously wasn’t suited for it. He always knew Sokka would wind up in pediatrics.

“Unfortunately, she _was_ benched for the season. For life, actually.” Zuko shook his head, his brows scrunched once more. “Poor girl’s heart has always had it out for her. She was admitted twice almost every year since.”

He could only smile on the inside as memories of her time in the hospital flooded back to him. Zuko remembered the massive smile on her face when the captain of her high school’s lacrosse came interrupted her examination to ask her to the homecoming dance. He almost missed the tortured drama of which prom dress to choose (Zuko was torn between the burnt sienna scoop neck and the navy blue empire waist). He could still see her gripping the sides of her face in fear as she shoved a letter from her dream school into Zuko’s hands.

_”Here, you do it.” She said. ”I just can’t.”_

She gave the tightest hug he’d ever received after he broke the good news to her.

“Zuko!” Sokka shouted. “She’s tanking! Paddles!” The attending’s eyes flashed up to the monitors. Sokka was right. She was about to code out.

“No, no, you don’t get to do this, Rorri.” Zuko’s hand flew open, ready to receive the defibrillators. He quickly slipped the long metal rods back into the chest cavity. He cradled the girl’s heart before activating the paddles. “Clear!” A thwack echoed through the operating room as her body popped on the table. No luck.

The monitors screamed in his ear, each beep a reminder of the life that was slipping away on the table. Four weeks. At least 5 dozen surgeries.

 _This_ is the moment he loses one? This is the moment his ex-boyfriend walks back into his life and into his O.R. Zuko, the cardio god, the _Fire Lord_ of Omashu Grace, loses a patient in a freak table death on the first try.

“No, no! Charge again!” He growled at the scrub nurse. “Clear!” Her body popped again, still not giving him the results he wanted.

“Zuko.” Sokka broke the sterile field and placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. “Zuko, it’s time to let her go.”

“No!” He plunged his hand into her chest. “Starting cardiac massage. Let’s get her prepped for bypass.”

“Zuko!” Sokka shook the lead surgeon, finally grasping his attention. “That won’t do anything. You know that. Look at her stats!” He furrowed his brow. “Call it, Zuko. Let her go.”

Even though Zuko’s mask covers a majority of his face, Sokka didn’t need anything but his eyes to know that he was hurting. Much more pressing than his hurt, however, was his panicking. HIs gasping breaths barely made it out of his mouth, though Zuko didn’t make it easy with his hunched shoulders and clenched neck.

Suddenly, Sokka watched Zuko’s arms relax, pulling back from the heart on the table.

“Time of death, 8:49.” He tore the gown off his back and stormed out of the theater.

“Zuko. Zuko!” Sokka quickly dropped his suction tube and ran after him. Inside the scrub room, Zuko slammed an instrument tray to the ground. “Calm down! These things happen!”

“No, no!” As he screamed, the veins on his neck bulged. His arms were flexed into oblivion. Sokka approached him but received nothing but a shake off. “You know what I did yesterday, Sokka? Do you know?” Zuko spat as he ripped the mask off his face, revealing a twisted, angry scowl. “I did a heart transplant on a newborn. That baby’s alive. The day before that? Repaired the lungs of a man who got stabbed in the chest. He’s alive. And this? A simple, stupid valve repair? A surgery I mastered in my third year of residency and _she_ dies?”

“Zuko. Go lay down.” Sokka clenched his eyes shut. It’s never easy when a kid dies on the table. It’s even _less_ easy when you’ve known her for half her life. “I’ll take care of her now.”

He tried to take a calming breath, but only a low, sobbing moan came out. Before he took his leave, he thrust his fist into the door window. Sokka winced as glass crumpled down out of the frame, tinged with Zuko’s bright red blood.

”Today of all days.” He growled. It had happened in a flash. In a second, she was gone.

* * *

“Hey.” The on-call room slowly filled with the soft glow of the hallway’s light.

“What was it?” He groaned into his pillow. “What killed her?”

“Zuko, it was MHS. She had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia. There was nothing we could have done. She was too far gone by the time she coded.” Sokka gently shut the door behind him. His eyes slowly began adjusting to Zuko’s dark room. His arms were left hanging limp at his sides, helpless.

“Malignant hyperthermia?” Zuko sat up slightly. “But that’s…”

“Genetic.” Sokka nodded. “If _you_ didn’t know, nobody could have.”

“I… but I’ve…” He stuttered, face falling twisted as he let out a tormented gasp, almost as if the air didn’t want to leave his body. “I’ve done that surgery on her before! There’s no way… no way…” He trailed off as the tears started to flow. Sokka took it as his opportunity to sink into the bed next to him.

“Hey, hey.” He lowed as Zuko pushed into his side. He tightened his grip around Zuko’s shoulders as his sobs only intensified. “It can develop over time. You’re a good doctor. You know that.” Sokka rested his cheek on Zuko’s soft hair. “Don’t beat yourself up... please.”

The two sat in a tortured, heavy state of half-silence, the only thing breaking it being Zuko’s sobbing. Sokka’s heartbeat was the only constant he could hold onto in that moment. He was a heart surgeon. He knew hearts, inside and out. He knew what made them keep beating… and what made them stop.

The heart in Sokka’s chest didn’t know what to do or what to say. It was his first day, for heaven’s sake.

“She was a person, Zuko. And people weren’t made to last.” Sokka whispered.

Sokka held him tightly as Zuko clawed at his chest. Thank goodness Sokka came back for him. Today of all days.


	2. Say You Won't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fire Lord returns after a week of leave and jumps right back into the O.R. with his ex-med-school-boyfriend Sokka. Of course, at Omashu Grace, no day can pass without a hiccup or two.

It’s been a week since _the incident._

Sokka couldn’t stand it, but that’s what the entire hospital was calling Rorri’s death. He had to suppress the urge to lash out every single time he heard a hushed whisper between two interns or when he saw a group of nurses give him a strange look.

 _“The new peds guy was with him for a whole_ two hours _afterwards.”_

_Or_

_“He broke a window in O.R. 3. Punched it right out.”_

_Or_

_“I heard he was_ crying. _Can you imagine it, the Fire Lord crying?”_

Zuko’s once domineering title didn’t seem so fitting to Sokka anymore, yet somehow it still stuck. One thing changed for certain: there was now concrete proof that the Fire Lord had a heart. Sokka’s only consolation is that the man in question wasn’t around to watch his own downfall. Until today, that is. The Fire Lord returned the day after his favorite patient’s funeral. Of course, Sokka _would_ be the one waiting for him at the elevator door.

“H-hi! H-how’s your hand?” Sokka asked immediately. “H-how are _you?_ I guess I shoulda started with that one–”

“Good… and good.” Zuko gave him a half-hearted yet reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Sokka. You’ve already done so much.”

“I want to do more.” Sokka sighed. His hand just so happened to find Zuko’s arm. Sokka hovered for a moment to get a read on whether he minded or not. He didn’t, much to Sokka’s delight.

“Sokka…” His golden eyes didn’t strike or pierce, they simply gazed. Zuko raised his hand to touch his ex-boyfriend’s face, but quickly rerouted to adjust his hair. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Sokka looked to the ground. “Anytime.” 

The two stood in silence for several moments, but it didn’t feel awkward. At least, not for Sokka. Then again, it took everything in him not to just stare right past Zuko’s eyes and straight down to those collarbones. Red was _definitely_ Zuko’s color. It was a beautiful contrast from the sweatpants Zuko had been practically married to during his short leave, though he wouldn’t complain about those, either.

Sokka considered getting “keep it professional” tattooed onto his arm as a reminder.

“So… we have a surgery today?” Zuko raised his eyebrows, a small smile creeping across his face. He would never admit it, but he was happy for a distraction. The past week was one of the hardest of his entire career as a surgeon… and as a _human_. What he needed right now was to save a life.

“We do!” Sokka perked up a little too dramatically and immediately toned it back when he saw Zuko’s golden eyes widen. “Uhm, he’s in room 615. His parents are just waiting for you to officially consult then we’ll scrub.”

Zuko nodded, unwrapping his stethoscope from around his neck. Sokka disappeared into the mountain of paperwork waiting for him at the nurse’s station as whispers echoed up the hallway. A swift turn of his head revealed to Zuko a whole slew of residents, all of whom had eyes on him.

He had a feeling this would happen. His reaction to Rorri’s death wasn’t exactly _private._ All it took was one of the many scrub nurses to tell one of their many scrub nurse friends, then they pass it on to the interns, residents, and attendings in their O.R.’s, then it makes the round in the lounge, then the cafeteria, then onwards. 

At least there was _one_ thing he could count on. Sokka would never judge him.

Zuko set his jaw and turned on his heel to face the batch of (now frightened) residents.

“I am a 32-year-old cardio-thoracic attending surgeon. You hear that? 32. And I’m not even the surgical prodigy of my family. I was on a four week long streak, no deaths. Just because it broke doesn’t mean it wasn’t impressive. Just because I have emotions doesn’t mean I’m not a badass. Just because I got sad doesn’t mean I’m not still your Fire Lord. Now go be a damn doctor and leave me alone.”

They scurried.

“You really embrace that, huh?” Sokka raised an eyebrow, not bothering to look up from his chart.

“I have no choice.” Zuko chuckled, taking the binder from Sokka’s hands.

Kuzon, age 7, familial hypercholesterolemia. Double heart and liver transplant. Four hours of bliss, as far as Zuko was concerned. Aang would most likely do a majority of the operation, but he’d still need some help on the more complicated steps.

Zuko approached his patient’s room, ready to face the sick child. Pediatrics never used to be part of his area of expertise, but children’s hearts are just so complex. Their surgeries actually _mean_ something. Zuko could only take so many middle-aged men who clogged their own arteries or elderly women trying to hold on for one more grandchild’s birth. Those are important and all, of course, but children are innocent. They rarely deserve the afflictions they have.

“Oh, you must be Dr.–” The woman that Zuko assumed to be the mother started.

“Please, just call me Zuko.” He smiled at the obviously very jumpy parent. “And _you_ must be Kuzon. Mind if I take a listen?” He held up his stethoscope.

The child leaned forward, knowing the drill. “Dr. Zuko?”

“Hm?” He hummed in response as he moved the cold instrument along the child’s back.

“How did you get that mark on your face?” Kuzon’s mother hissed his name.

“It’s a burn scar.” This isn’t a new sensation to Zuko. He’s just surprised that more children aren’t afraid of him because of the large mark across his left eye.

Kuzon gasped. “Did you fight a dragon!?”

“No, of course not!” Zuko pulled away, standing up. He smiled at Kuzon’s mother. The moment she looked away, he winked at Kuzon, whose jaw dropped in awe. It never hurts for children to believe their doctor’s are a bit more than human.

Sokka entered the room before Kuzon could ask any more questions. “Okay! Who’s ready to get started?”

“You’re getting a brand new heart today, buddy.” Zuko smiled, putting his stethoscope back into his lab coat pocket. 

“What kind of a heart? Is it from one of your dragons?” Kuzon raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Oh, of course. It’s the only kind strong enough for tough kids like you.” The child giggled, sparking Sokka’s interest. 

_Fire Lord_ Zuko? Good with kids? He’d never once entertained the thought. In med school, he would always talk about how he was ‘already dreading’ his pediatric rotations. Sokka was never sure if it was because he couldn’t stand the idea of children being sick or if it was just because he detested the tiny humans. He suddenly felt guilty for assuming the worst.

* * *

“Aang, that suture looks a little crooked. Do it again.” Zuko spoke with an emotionless voice while looking at the resident’s work with impressively dead eyes.

“Shouldn’t we get an intern for this? I’m _a resident!_ My job isn’t to do sutures!” Aang groaned, lifting his instruments slightly and looking up at his hovering boss.

“No, it’s not. Your job is to make your attending surgeon happy. _I_ am your attending surgeon.” Zuko’s glare could cut a diamond. “Do I look happy?”

“...to be fair, you’re wearing a mask so I can’t really see–”

“Read the room, Aang.” Sokka piped in with surprising monotony.

“Sorry, Dr. Hotman!” The resident practically bowed and quickly put his head down and got to work fixing his supposedly crooked suture.

 _“Stop calling me that!”_ Zuko screeched as Sokka stifled a laugh.

“The Fire Lord really _is_ back.” Sokka shook his head slightly, still zoned in on his liver (and what a beautiful liver it was, too).

“Oh, he was never gone.” Zuko looked down the surgical field and somehow directly _into_ Sokka, right down to his soul. Again, his gaze was strangely soft for how much aggression seemed to be behind those eyes. Somehow, Sokka could just _tell_ that the mask was hiding Zuko’s signature insufferable, ‘I-know-what-I’m-doing-better-than-you-do’ smirk. He always thought it was kind of hot, though nobody at school ever agreed with him.

Sokka suddenly began to realize why they called Zuko the Fire Lord in the first place. His first experience with Zuko in the O.R. was very different from his normal performance, apparently, which Sokka now had the front row seat to. Of course, in med school, things were different. Zuko had always been a very commanding person, but their classmates had always assumed he’d grown into the classic firm-yet-loving kind of surgeon, the notoriously best kind. 

Well, the kind of surgeon that Sokka grew into, actually.

Make no mistake, Sokka _took no shit_ in his O.R., but he was never as contentious or belligerent of an attending as Zuko seemed to be. Sokka always opted for the gentle touch, whereas Zuko seemed to burst in with guns blazing no matter what. One surgery since his leave and he was definitely settling back into his normal groove. Sokka could see it in the way that Zuko held himself physically. He was vigilantly watching their resident’s every move. Those golden eyes were darting from patient to stats to Aang’s hands. His elbows were locked and loaded, ready to hop in at any moment, which was fortunate in this case.

“BP is tanking!” Aang shouted, yanking his hands from the surgical field.

“What!?” Within a half second, Zuko was wrist deep in the chest cavity. “I’ll find the bleeder… except there _is no_ bleeder. What did you _do,_ Aang? _Why_ is he tanking!?” Sokka could sense a strange rising panic within Zuko. He was afraid that Kuzon would come to meet the same fate that Rorri did. 

Sokka didn’t even have time to send a reassuring look to his fellow attending before he noticed it.

“Uhm.” Sokka lifted his instruments at the first shifting movement. “Guys? Oh, my God.”

Kuzon’s awake.

“Jet!” Zuko screeched as all eyes turned to the anesthesiologist, who swooped in to inject a dose of something into Kuzon’s bloodstream. Jet’s lip was severely curled and his teeth very obviously digging into his cheek as if to keep his mouth shut. Sokka gathered quickly that Jet wasn’t a fan favorite with the staff at Omashu Grace, least of all Zuko. Everyone knows who would win that fight.

“Kuzon!” Sokka jumped to his feet, breaking the sterile field. He crashed his instruments onto the nearby tray. It was Aang’s turn to take over anyway. 

“Sokka!” Zuko hissed, but he was too late. Sokka had already undraped the child’s face.

“Kuzon? Kuzon, listen to me.” Sokka leaned over the child’s crumpled face, careful to hide his blood-covered gloves. “You’re safe. I know this is scary, but you’re safe. You’re okay. I’m so sorry this happened. Breathe for me, buddy, okay? Can you do that?”

Brown eyes looked up at the pediatric surgeon in absolute horror. Sokka couldn’t even imagine what that poor child must have been feeling. He woke up to darkness, the only smell being that of his own flesh burning. Sokka wouldn’t look at a cautery pen the same way again.

“Kuzon, buddy, you can’t talk, but I need you to go back to sleep. Can you count sheep for me? Count back from ten, buddy.” Sokka’s voice calmed the boy as his heart rate began to stabilize. “Shut your eyes and squeeze every time you see a sheep hop over the fence.”

As the situation de-escalated, the whole O.R. took a collective breath.

“Jet’s got it handled.” Sokka’s blue eyes had never been so sharp.

“Jet couldn’t hit sand if he fell off a damn camel.” Zuko spat and rolled his eyes, somehow maintaining composure in the midst of the chaos. His focus was razor-sharp, even though their jobs were practically done. “You’re great with kids, Sokka. I always had a feeling you’d wind up here one way or another.”

“I didn’t expect you to as well.” Sokka chuckled. Zuko didn’t return the sentiment.

“...what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” Sokka’s eyes widened. Shit. “You’re just, uh, not good with kids normally. At least you weren’t when we were in school.”

Zuko straightened his back. “Aang, we’ll let you close up here. Sokka, let’s update the family.”

* * *

This was always either the best or worst part of every surgery in Zuko’s opinion. Either way he would have a mother hugging him tight or clinging onto him for dear life. Either way there would be tears.

The pair approached the tired, weary family in the waiting room. 

Zuko knelt down to look at the child (presumably Kuzon's brother) eye-to-eye. _Not good with kids, huh?_ Zuko smiled. _I’ll show you._

“Hey, champ!” He started. “I thought they said you were a little kid! You’re almost as tall as me!”

“You’re not that tall.” The child delivered a single, swift blow, leaving Zuko dead on impact. Sokka had to siphon all his energy into _not_ bursting into a massive fit of laughter in front of a child’s parents.

“Alright.” Zuko stood up, mentally filing this moment away into his ‘never again’ bank of actions. “The surgery went very well. We’re afraid that the anesthesia was a little light and wore off a bit at the end there, but he most likely won’t remember a thing. The heart seemed to take very well, as did the liver. He should be waking up within the hour.”

“Thank you so much, Zuko.” Kuzon’s father wraps the surgeon in a hug. “Sokka said you were the absolute best surgeon in the country. You really came through.”

Zuko stood paralyzed. Sokka… said _that?_

“What did I tell ya?” Sokka lightly patted the father on the back as he let Zuko go. “He’s the best of the best.”

* * *

“Just do it.” Sokka whispered to himself. He’s just typing up notes from the surgery. He can be interrupted… right? It was pathetic. Sokka had been making bedroom eyes at Zuko’s office door for the past fifteen minutes trying to find a good enough reason to go inside _other_ than to ask him on a date.

He swallowed his pride and took the first step forward.

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.” Sokka swaggered into Zuko’s office.

“I-I didn’t? You just walked in here and started talking–”

“I don’t have time for a history lesson. Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night?”

“I like to have dinner _every_ night?”

“Zuko. Dinner?” Sokka raised his eyebrows. And he thought Aang was the only doctor acting like a toddler around here. “With me. Tomorrow. My place.”

“Yeah.” Zuko let a soft smile show. “I’d like that.”

Sokka let out a loud, heavy breath as he walked away victorious. He wasn’t sure how Zuko would take it, but now he would get to find out. He couldn’t have been totally hallucinating the chemistry between them. Aang was living proof of _that._

“Taming the dragon, were we?” Aang wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned against the nurses station.

“Why do you feel the need to do this?” Sokka resigned with a sigh.

“I’m just saying.” Aang threw up his hands in equal parts defeat and defense. “The Fire Lord’s never acted so… _light-hearted_ before. You’ve got some sort of power over him. You make him feel downright _merciful._ I haven’t seen anything like it in five years working under him. Maybe you can just tame that fire for us, okay? For the sake of every resident here?”

Sokka smacked Aang with his scrub cap as he watched the Fire Lord himself slink from his office and into an on-call room. He had half a mind to follow him in there and crawl into a bed, but he elected against it. Zuko needed time and space, and who was Sokka to deny him that? He turned to leave as the door creaked shut behind the exhausted cardio surgeon.

 _He lived._ Zuko let out a long, labored breath. _Kuzon lived._ At least someone did today. It’s just what he needed.

“Told you I wouldn’t let you down, Rorri.” He whispered into the pillow.


	3. Story of My Life

One hour. 60 minutes. That’s all that stood between Sokka and his date with Zuko.

Well, he’s been calling it a date, but is it _really_ a date if both parties didn’t come to the mutual agreement on what it was called? Is there some special clearance for calling it as such when it’s with your ex-med-school-boyfriend-turned- colleague ? Where the hell would you even begin to start defining _that_?

Of course, the nomenclature would have to wait. Sokka all but broke down the door to his apartment, firing his keys into the bowl by the door like a gunshot. The ground was swaying slightly beneath him, as his emergent appendectomy kept him sanding an hour or two longer than he had expected for the day.

Today was no day for weakness, however, so Sokka resolved to get over it.

Unfortunately, the state of his apartment left him with no choice. He really doesn’t know _how_ it gets this bad every time. It always used to drive Zuko crazy, so Sokka needed to get his wreck under control.

_Every time Sokka came home to ABBA, he knew Zuko had a bad day. Even more so when he heard the whir of the Hoover. Sure enough, there he stood, easily visible from the doorway in his (name brand, mind you) Adidas track sweats, pumping the vacuum against the living room carpet. His back muscles flexed with each drag across the room, much to Sokka’s delight._

_“Having fun there?” He attempted to speak over the music as well as Zuko’s loud singing. The poor boy jumped in surprise, not having heard the door opening, then closing, then Sokka’s footsteps and breathing._

_“Sokka! You’re home early!” He let out a squeal of surprise._

_“And_ you _just vacuumed two days ago.” Sokka gently placed his hand over Zuko’s, turning the knob on the handle. As the whirring came to a stop, Zuko’s smile wavered slightly. If you weren’t Sokka, you would miss it. Zuko wrapped his hand around his boyfriend’s in a feeble attempt to somehow reassure him that everything was okay._

_“So?”_

_“You’re a nervous cleaner, Zu. I know you.” Sokka’s deep blue eyes cut right through the lies. “What happened?”_

_Zuko took a moment to consider his options. It was barely any use lying to Sokka. That man always knew the ins and outs of Zuko’s brain… or at least Sokka liked for him to think it that way._

_“M-my dad.” Zuko sucked his lower lip in between his teeth. He bit down hard for a moment before letting himself finish. “He’s, uh, he’s the commencement speaker.”_

_“Woah!” Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Good! The world-renowned Ozai, cardio god himself, will come and establish your dominance as Ba Sing Se’s own surgical prodigy.”_

_“Ha ha.” He rolled his eyes. “That would be Azula, thank you very much, once she finally goes to med school and my father can stop pretending to love me.”_

_“Woah.” Sokka moved his hand up from Zuko’s hand to his shoulder. “Don’t talk like that. Your father loves you.”_

_“And you don’t know my father.”_

_Zuko’s golden eyes lit up with a strange fire. Sokka knew Zuko could be a little hot-headed at times, and he was far too passionate for anyone’s good, but this was a different kind of fire. It was intimidating. It was borderline frightening._

_“Anyways, what’s for dinner?”_

“Shit.” Sokka hissed. He had to cook as well as clean (the apartment and himself).

Luckily for him, Zuko was getting out of a 6-hour-long LVAD insertion surgery, meaning Sokka could feed him a sponge and he’d think it was absolutely delectable. 

Luckily for Zuko, Sokka could manage more than a sponge.

_“I didn’t color you as the cooking type.” Zuko dropped the ceramic dinner plate into the sink with a concerning amount of force and lack of restraint. The fate of the plate only added to Sokka’s sweat level for the moment._

_“Oh, it’s nothing.” Literally, Zuko. It was takeout that he kept warm in the oven. It was just served on real dinnerware. A ceramic plate could go a long way as far as Zuko was concerned._

_“Really, Sokka. I mean it.” He flopped onto the little black futon and leaned straight into the nook of Sokka’s arm. “My family never really had proper dinners together growing up. When we did, it wasn’t pretty. Even just getting to sit and eat with you means so much.” He planted a gentle kiss on Sokka’s hand._

_Way to make him feel bad. Honestly, only this boy could. Sokka nuzzled his face into Zuko’s soft, dark hair. Seriously, this boy’s hair might have actually been made from the feathers of angel wings._

_“How on earth do you do this?” Sokka brushed his cheek back and forth on the top of Zuko’s head. “You have the softest hair of any person alive.”_

_“It would be even softer if_ someone _wouldn’t use my nice shampoo.” Zuko laughed, pushing back against Sokka’s nose._

_“I swear, our kid better have your hair or else I’d feel sorry for them.”_

_“...our kid?” Zuko paused, landing Sokka dead in his tracks. He actually said it out loud._

_“Y-yeah.” He swallowed loudly and anxiously. “I’d want them to have your hair. Seriously, your genetics are insane.”_

_“So, I’m the father here?”_

_“Oh, of course.”_

_“Good. Then maybe they’d have half a brain.” Zuko teasingly pecked Sokka’s cheek._

_Sokka wouldn’t settle for that. He pulled him into a long, tender kiss. It was as if time had stopped right there, as they sat slouching against the cheap IKEA futon, glued to one another. Nothing else existed. No exams to study for, no cadaver lab reports needing typed, nothing except a strange hope for the future and the relief that came with breaking the ice. And for Zuko, the warmth of feeling wanted so deeply by the love of his life._

_“You know, we can both be the father of this hypothetical child.” Zuko allowed a small smile to sneak onto his face. “We’re gonna be doctors. Medicine can do it.”_

_“Well, I’m glad.” He brushed a stray, absurdly soft hair from Zuko’s face. “But if we have to choose, I choose you.” Fathers never came easy for Zuko, and Sokka knew that, but he couldn’t think of their future hypothetical child any other way. He’d want Zuko’s eyes and hair and, yes, even his brain, and possibly even his wit and temperament._

_He just wanted Zuko._

The little black futon was nestled into the corner of his current living room. Even when he made the trek across the world for his residency, he couldn’t bear to get rid of the old thing. He hardly uses it anymore. It’s more of a relic than a functional piece of furniture. 

Well, at the moment, it was more of a holding place for dirty laundry than a relic. Zuko used to drill him for leaving it all over the place. As he quickly threw it all into an abused hamper, Sokka started to worry if it would all be too much for Zuko.

Sokka chose this apartment specifically because it reminded him of the layout of the one he and Zuko shared in Ba Sing Se. Zuko _loved_ their med school apartment. Of course, that was almost a year before they started dating. They were painfully sure it would remain a “roommates only, don’t catch feelings” situation. They’d never been so wrong. 

_“They swapped numbers.” Zuko furrowed his brow. “Last week they said we were in 209. Now we’re in 424.”_

_“Oh. Well, that shouldn't be a problem.” Sokka shrugged and pressed the elevator button firmly. “We wanted the top floor anyway, right? Only one battlefront to worry about as far as I’m concerned.”_

_Zuko looked up at his new roommate, a strange feeling twisting its way into his stomach. He reminds himself that he has a girlfriend, half-heartedly albeit. Were he and Mai still a thing? He hadn’t asked her that morning, which meant he couldn’t be totally sure._

_Either way, Sokka’s arms looked_ fine _in that tank top. Zuko was entranced by the line that ran down the inside of his bicep._

_“Here we go…” Sokka sing-songed as he jiggled the key into the lock. Zuko knocked the door open. “Very nice! Really really nice! Same kitchen layout as the other one.” Sokka ducked his head into the fridge._

_“Uhm.” Zuko’s eyebrows raised. “Sokka…?”_

_The two stood in the bedroom doorway._ The _bedroom doorway. Emphasis on the singularity. One king sized bed. Two grown men._

_“We can ask for a transfer to a different unit–” Zuko crossed his arms._

_“This was the last one in the building.” Sokka shrugged. “This is the only building close to campus. No biggie. We’ll make it work. It’s only temporary.”_

Oh, they made it _work_. It took them a while, but they got there eventually.

Sokka paused as he gazed straight through the archway to his bedroom. Suddenly, a massive knot appeared in his throat. Would it get used tonight? Or was that way too presumptuous?

He gave himself a crisp little slap on the face as a mental palette cleanser and got on with his hustle. He’d wasted almost 15 minutes already. Well, 13 minutes. It took at least two to order the takeout while he was mourning Zuko’s old sweatpants.

Keeping his mind clean in the shower was a herculean, and at times borderline sisyphean, task. The truth kept ringing back into his mind. He didn’t know where Zuko stood now. He certainly couldn’t stop thinking about where Zuko used to stand. 

Before they went their separate ways, Sokka assumed they were solid. He even held out hope for their relationship after they parted ways, though the problem wasn’t only the distance.

_“Community South?” Zuko’s face fell. “That’s so… far.”_

_“That’s the point._ Her _private practice is up north.”_

_“Sokka, you need to let that go.”_

_“How on earth can I?” Sokka dropped his acceptance letter onto the counter and rubbed his temples. “Where are you going, then? If not Comm South?”_

_“I, uh…” Zuko scratched the back of his head. “I actually got into Omashu Grace.”_

_“So. You’re half a world away.” Sokka’s face fell deadpan as his eyes filled with tears. “You’re running away to be an intern at a ritzy rich kid hospital half a world away from me.”_

_“Right, because_ I’m _the one that’s running away here.” Zuko sighed._

Sokka kicked himself over and over every day for eight years. Today was his first step in setting things right.

* * *

“Okay, I need to say it. This place looks… eerily familiar.” Zuko smiled as he took the final swig of his water. He was never one for drinking before bed. “I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been… dancing around the topic all night. You really haven’t changed the decor of your apartment in _eight_ years?”

“Well, I didn’t have you around to drag me to IKEA.” Sokka laughed, dropping his fork. “I didn’t have you around at all, actually. It shows.”

“Sokka–”

“No, I’m sorry.” He waved his hand. “That was awful, I was awful. Really, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I guess I just don’t really know how to say that… well, I missed you for all those years.”

“I missed you, too, Sokka.” Zuko sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose. He brought his hand down in a sweeping motion, barely brushing his skin against Sokka’s. Their eyes meet with the intention of flitting elsewhere, but they don’t. Their eyes know better. Sokka takes in those eyes he loved so long ago.

“Zuko, I–”

“Sokka, it’s my turn to clarify.” He pressed his lips together, visibly gathering his words. “I know it’s been a while. Eight years is a long time. A lot can change. But you? Sokka, you’re the _same_. You’re the same person. I guess I’m just shocked. Stunned. It’s like you walked out of a time machine.”

“That’s hilarious.” Sokka shook his head, trying to dissipate his inner tension. “Zuko, you’re so… different. You’ve grown. You’re not the same person you were in school.” 

“I should hope not.” Zuko joked in a feeble attempt to lower the romantic stakes of their conversation.

“Well, yeah. I mean _you’re_ the person they send to talk to families? _You?_ I only wish I’d have thought of ‘Fire Lord’ sooner. Your co-workers have no idea how well it would have fit you. You’re a joke of your former self.” Sokka poked. 

“I wish I could tell our school friends that I finally got you to join me at the great Omashu Grace. _That_ would be a joke.” Zuko’s laugh rang straight down to Sokka’s heart, yet his joy was sadly cut short by a shrill buzzing. 

“Oh, no.” Sokka responded to the beeping page on his phone. “Pileup on the freeway. All hands on deck.” Zuko practically hopped to his feet with glee.

_“Oh, I can’t wait for shifts in the ER.” Zuko was practically doing cartwheels out the door of the lecture hall. “Give me an aorta shredded like beef any day.”_

_Sokka playfully rolled his eyes. “Just wait ‘til it’s you on that table and you won’t be so giddy.” He watched as Zuko tossed his backpack onto the ground, flopping himself into the sunlight. Sokka used to be convinced that this boy was solar-powered. Zuko followed the light like a cat in the window. HIs dark hair starkly contrasted against the lush green of the quad’s grass as he settled in. “What on earth are you doing?”_

_Zuko closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Dreaming of traumas.”_

_“You’re dreaming of the scariest day in someone’s life?”_

Sokka remembered the scariest day of his life so vividly. It may have been over eight years ago, but it could have been yesterday. When he came home from class on that day, he never expected to find what he found.

_Sokka paused for a moment. He could hear the shower was running, but Zuko hadn’t laid his clothes out. Then, he heard it. A low moan crawled out of the bathroom, cutting straight through the tapping sound of the showerhead raining onto the bathtub._

_“Zu?” He pushed the unlatched door open. Slowly, he approached the shower curtain. He pulled it back so carefully as if Zuko were a frightened baby deer. Truth be told, he didn’t know what he would find. He said a silent prayer that Zuko was alive._

_He wasn’t expecting to see what was in front of him. His boyfriend was standing – slumping, rather – fully clothed and dripping. His tight red v-neck was made even tighter by the sagging of the fabric, heavy with water. Sokka was so caught off guard that when Zuko opened his mouth he had forgotten what was coming out of it just a moment ago._

_“Zu, what’s wrong? What happened?” Sokka didn’t think twice about climbing in to hold him. “Please, talk to me.”_

_“He–” Zuko spat. “My father, he–” His fist reached up and smashed the tile in front of them. In a swift moment of absolute emotional exhaustion, he fell, letting Sokka take all of his weight. Gently, Sokka led them both to lay down in the tub._

_“His pacemakers!” Zuko moaned. “They’re faulty, Sokka, they’re broken!” He drove his forehead into his partner’s chest. “He made them and they’re breaking! Hundreds of thousands of people are dying and it’s all my father’s fault!” He shrieked into Sokka’s shoulder._

_Sokka blinked. Zuko was crying. It wasn’t a sniveling cry or a blubbering cry. No, it wasn’t a weeping cry or a sob even. It was a screaming cry. They were the screams of a child who worked so hard to make something of himself only to have it all torn down through no action of his own. From that moment onward, his pedigree would be his biggest obstacle. And it wasn’t his fault in the slightest. His burdens were placed on him from someone else entirely._

_Sokka rubbed circles into Zuko’s back simply because that’s all he_ could _do._

“Hey.” Zuko snapped him back into reality. “I didn’t mean to just… leave, you know.”

“I wanted to follow you, Zuko. I really did.” Sokka swallowed hard. “But you of all people should know that I was busy running from what I did.”


	4. Night Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know those episodes that were randomly focused on Derek or Callie or Arizona? This is Zuko's!

Zuko was the master of the cat nap. Well, Zuko had asked Sokka to call it a “power nap” instead (far more manly), but it was to no avail. Sokka had no qualms about telling every doctor at Omashu Grace every last story from med school that involved Zuko falling asleep in inopportune locations and at the strangest of times – and there were quite a few. 

He was known to push himself to the edge of his ability in order to complete a lab report or drag a triple all-nighter to perfect his residency essay. This man functioned on as little sleep as humanly possible, and even then, Sokka would regularly vocalize to him that he wasn’t sure it  _ was _ humanly possible to begin with. Sokka was the biggest advocate for Zuko’s napping. For the past eight years, Zuko would hear Sokka’s gentle voice in his head before falling asleep.

“Everyone’s gotta sleep. ‘Everyone’ includes you, too, Zuko.”

The sweet, sweet darkness of the on-call room was abruptly interrupted by a ball of nervous energy slinking in. Zuko drifted away from his sweet Sokka dream and into harsh, exhausted reality as he heard Aang’s shaking voice.

“Z-Zuko, I don’t want to bother you–”

“Then don’t.” The attending shoved his face even further into the on-call room pillow. The cool cotton pillowcase felt so soft against his closed eyelids. If only he could keep them that way.

“Really, it’s no big–” Aang blatantly lied in an attempt to quench the anger that was about to ensue.

“Then walk away.” An irritated, sleep-deprived voice gritted through the pillow.

Aang had considered that. Aang had  _ really  _ considered that. He had thought long and hard about not even coming into work today for fear of this moment. Aang was surprised he was even standing in the room with him right now.

“Okay, actually it  _ is  _ a big deal–”

“Then what!?” Zuko sat up.

“Katara’s pregnant!” Aang shouted, his eyes wide. It took a half-second for Zuko’s eyes to match. The two stared at each other for what could have been a moment or an hour. Zuko wasn’t sure which.

“O-oh. Congratulations?” He suddenly took up the stature of a kitten who just saw a ceiling fan for the first time. The air in the on-call room suddenly felt very hot. Had Zuko been sweating like this the whole time? “Are we happy about this?”

“Yeah! Yeah, very! We’re so delighted. It’s a funny story, really. I’ll tell you later…” Aang looked increasingly more on edge as Zuko laid his head back down on the pillow. Still, he hovered over his attending to a comical degree. Unsaid words hung in the air as Zuko opened his eyes again.

“Is.. is there something else?” Zuko blinked, the still-open door allowing the hallway to blind him.

“Uh, yeah. You’re supposed to be on call in the pit.” Aang perked up out of his haze ever so slightly, remembering that there was a potentially unsupervised emergency room waiting for Zuko's guidance.

“You could have led with that!” Zuko shot out of bed. He’d spent most of his sleeping hours awake, trying to make heads or tales of the dinner he shared with Sokka a few days before. Leave it to Zuko to think of his ex-boyfriend while peoples’ lives hang in the balance. 

The fear of Suki having Zuko’s ass on a plate was a bit more pressing at the moment, but still, as he was rushing down to the E.R., Zuko’s mind was full of nothing other than Sokka’s blue eyes and musical laugh. He arrived to find a less-than-pleased trauma surgeon staring him down, yet his shoulders relaxed slightly, now knowing the E.R. wasn’t completely abandoned in his absence.

“Sorry, Suki.” He pressed his lips together and gave her a slightly sympathetic nod. Unfortunately, that didn’t buy him much favor with Suki and her gang of religiously loyal trauma nurses.

“I don’t ask for much around here.” She slaps the clipboard into his hand like a force of nature. “I do, however, ask that my surgeons be  _ on time. _ ”

“It won’t happen again.” A cold bead of sweat trailed its way down from Zuko’s hairline. Suki’s stare wasn’t necessarily ice cold, she was a surgeon after all. People had to trust her with their lives quite literally. Hey eyes had to be the warm, calming source of reassurance that everything will be okay… but damn, if her gaze wasn’t chilling enough to send a shiver down Zuko’s spine.

He groaned. Suki’s posse of trauma nurses would be after him all morning… or so the thought until he heard the blessed cry of the desk phone. Zuko held his breath until he heard the words that would set him free.

“Incoming trauma, less than one minute out! Adult male, suspected femoral fracture and possible aortic transection right here on our front lawn. A car knocked him off his bike.”

Zuko thought he cheered silently at the sound of ‘aortic,’ though it appears it wasn’t quiet at all. The trauma nurses looked on in shock as the Fire Lord emitted a noise of pure glee so jarring that they weren’t sure it was possible for human vocal cords to make that sound, much less Zuko’s specifically.

“Oh, don’t act like you’ve never done it.” Zuko glared before starting towards the ambulance bay. The wailing sirens appeared less than a moment later as Zuko silently thanked whatever deity that would listen that he might be in surgery rather than running the E.R.

“I wouldn’t cheer yet. We have another, Zuko.” The nurse behind the desk rolled her eyes. “Looks like we have a kid on his way in, might need an appendectomy.”

“Ah, page Sokka.” Zuko waved his hand. “You got me all worried for nothing.” He gave her a fleeing smirk as he snapped his gloves onto his hands. Suki’s nurses always loved a night with the Fire Lord with good reason.

Being a cardio-thoracic surgeon – nay, cardio-thoracic  _ legend,  _ Zuko’s snap-decision making skills were fantastic on the small, surgical scale. His talents weren’t well suited for the large, E.R.-sized scale. Sure, he could absolutely dominate a heart suddenly filled with blood from an unknown source, but give him a child with a broken arm and all hell breaks loose. He could repair lungs that look like they just came off of the grill and turn them into high-functioning pink miracles, but keeping track of pages and getting O.R.s ready just broke the man.

Upon seeing his new patient in the ambulance, Zuko wasn’t sure he would recover from this E.R. management shift, even though it only had a 30-second run.

“Hakoda, good to see you again.” Zuko raised his eyebrows as he intercepted the gurney. He lurched forward to help the intern roll him to the trauma bay. “You, scat. Page Aang. This man’s practically a VIP. He gets the best of care, which means me.” Zuko gave one of his rare, you’re-in-good-hands kind of warm smiles to the patient on the gurney as he yanked a trauma gown from a dispenser.

“H-hey!” Hakoda gave him a labored smile. “You made it, kid. You really made it. My favorite son is a big-shot surgeon.”

“Hey!” Sokka cried, having just conveniently turned the corner in time to hear his own father reunite with his “favorite child.”

“Sokka, you shouldn’t be down here right now.” Zuko slipped his arms into the flimsy yellow trauma gown. “He’s your _dad,_ not a kid in need of surgery. You’re not in on this case. Go wait for your kid.”

“Zuko, I can’t–”

“Sokka.” Zuko placed hand on his shoulder and gazed into his favorite set of blue eyes. “I’ve got this. Go be a doctor.” Zuko needed to take that advice himself and try to forget about Sokka’s presence and relation to his patient.

This micro-interaction was completely noticed and processed by Hakoda, unbeknownst to his son and his son’s ex-boyfriend.

Before Sokka could move, the door practically flew off its hinges as Katara burst into the room.

“Hakoda, you’re not pregnant are you?” Zuko’s voice shifted when addressing the girl in pink scrubs. “Why’s OB here?”

“Because he’s my dad, jackass.” Katara placed a sassy hand on her cocked hip and shifted her razor-sharp glare to Sokka. “Why’s peds here?”

The room froze. Sokka looked at her for a long, heavy moment. It was  _ a look.  _ Not exactly a stare, definitely not a glare. Just a blank-faced  _ look.  _ For the second time in the past minute. Zuko nearly forgot there was a patient in question all together, much less that the patient was his ex-boyfriend’s father. 

“Shit.” Hakoda squeezed his eyes shut, most likely wishing that car had killed him off.

“Okay, both of you, out.” Zuko growled, his feral surgeon instincts having taken over.

“What’s happening?” Katara snarled straight back. “Why are you all looking at me like this? Dad, what’s going on here?”

“Katara, I–”

“Sokka’s dad is your dad. Discuss.” Zuko slammed the door after shoving the two dumbstruck surgeons into the hallway. He poked his head back out for a brief moment to welcome Aang into the room. “Nice to have you here.”

“Thank you for that.” Hakoda grunted, brushing his long brown hair out of the way as Aang yanked Zuko’s stethoscope from around his neck.

“Dude! Warn me!”

“Sorry! I forgot mine.” Aang sank into himself. “Long day.”

“It’s 8 A.M.” Hakoda sighed. “That’s not comforting.”

“Yeah, Hakoda, I have a feeling your aorta’s about to go. You’re gonna have a quick stop in CT then we’re taking you into surgery.” Zuko tossed his stethoscope around his neck after a brief fight with Aang’s grip. “I’ll see you up there.” He said another silent prayer in the hope that Sokka and Katara had taken their beef outside.

Aang skipped quickly to keep up with Zuko’s stride. His little legs could hardly keep up with his attending sometimes. When Zuko was on a mission, his swagger was a swift one.

“Page ortho and let them know he’s on his way up.”

“Yay! That’s exciting!” Aang chirped. “The new ortho surgeon started yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, that high-functioning moron I went to med school with?” His voice turned up in genuine curiosity.

“His name is Haru and he’s nice.” Aang finished, having pretended he heard nothing of what Zuko said. Aang found it far easier to stay positive if you just blocked Zuko out in general.

“Either way, tell him to meet us in the OR.” Zuko finished as Aang’s phone started beeping rapidly. 

“No!” He shouted, gripping his phone. “It’s Katara. 911.” There was only a half-second of silence before his attending made a move.

“Go! Go!” Zuko shoved him out of the elevator. “Meet us upstairs if everything’s okay.” The doors closed as Aang sprinted down the hall, grasping the wall to whip around the corner. Zuko let out a long breath.

It’ll be fine, right? The baby would be fine. It could only be–what? Eight weeks along? And besides, Zuko had seen Katara a moment ago and everything was okay… unless Sokka had done something to change that. Which he wouldn’t, Zuko hoped. No, no, Zuko  _ knew.  _ It had been years since his OB rotation, but it would take quite a shock for her to have lost the baby.

You know, a I-have-a-secret-sibling level of a shock.

* * *

  
  


“Aang is on his way in. He’s scrubbing now.” Haru smiled as he slipped into his gloves. “It’s a pleasure to scrub in with you again, Zuko.”

All Zuko could do in response was give a vaguely happy nod and ask the scrub nurse for the ten-blade in order to open the patient.

“So, how do you know–”

“We don’t  _ talk, _ Jet... Do I look like the  _ chatty  _ kind of person to you, Jet?” Zuko rolled his eyes as the anesthesiologist sank back into himself. 

“So, Zuko!” Aang burst into the operating room. “How do you know Hakoda?”

Zuko opened his mouth to respond as Jet let out a loud sigh.

“Could you keep it down over there? Aortic transection happening here.” Aang rolled his eyes. “Anyways, you were saying?”

“We’re starting with  _ this?  _ Why did Katara page you 911? I was worried sick.”

“You were worried?” The resident’s eyes grew slightly teary.

“Aang! Is... _ everything  _ okay?” Zuko gritted his teeth. Who all knew?

“Everything is fine.” Zuko couldn’t see his mouth, but he knew Aang was smiling as he took the scalpel from his attending. The resident’s shoulders rose and fell after a beat. “She… just told me the news. I can’t believe this man is her dad.”

“I didn’t know Sokka even had a sibling.”

“Wait,  _ what?”  _ Aang’s shock sent the scalpel hurtling out of his hand and towards Hakoda’s heart. As quickly as it fell, Aang snatched it right back out of the air. “Oh…”

“Ho-ly _ shit!” _ Zuko took a fast breath. “Did you puncture a glove?”

“No, I’m okay…” Aang took a moment to gather himself before moving back in on the patient. “Katara didn’t say anything about Sokka.”

“Aang, I’m as shocked as you are.” Zuko raised an eyebrow, conscious to keep his hands off of the patient. “I’ve known Hakoda for over a decade and he didn’t say a word. I didn’t expect him to go all  _ Parent Trap  _ on his kids.”

“This is Sokka’s dad?” Haru piped up. “Glad to know that the power couple of Ba Sing Se med school is still together.”

“Oh!” Zuko felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. “We’re not– I mean, he’s not– I guess  _ I’m  _ not–”

“They broke up for a while. They had a date–” Aang shot a glare up at the Fire Lord. “–which Zuko  _ still  _ hasn’t told me about.”

“It wasn’t a  _ date. _ ” Zuko gagged as if his psyche didn’t want the words to come out. “It was just dinner.”

Aang heaved an intense sigh. “Yeah, a dinner that he cooked for you at his apartment.”

“That’s a date.” Haru shook his head lightly.

“Aang, focus!” Zuko snapped.

“Sorry, Dr. H–” He stopped himself when he saw Zuko’s gold eyes stabbing into him. 

Aang worked slowly away at fixing Hakoda’s aorta. Zuko wasn’t quite used to being the assist now. Aang was in his fifth year of residency, so these were all his surgeries now. How would the baby impact his prospects for fellowship?

“So, uh, how’d you find out about Katara?”

“Funny story!” Aang lit up as if by speaking again Zuko had plugged him into an outlet. “So I proposed to her, right? And when I went down on one knee–”

_ “What!?”  _

Aang ignored Zuko’s outburst, only mostly because his hand was on his future father-in-law’s heart.

“Yeah, I did. So I wanted it to be a total surprise. I waited until she turned away from me to pull the ring out. Turns out she was pulling out her positive pregnancy test. Weird, huh?”

Zuko looked to Haru for support only to find the ortho surgeon staring at Aang in horror and shock.

“Uh, yeah, that qualifies as weird.” Zuko took the clamp out of his resident’s hands. “Just for that, I’m closing him up. I can’t trust you today.” Aang laughed as Haru finally broke his stunned silence.

“Aang, you could use more ortho hours. Wanna help me finish setting this leg?” Haru raised a slightly too promiscuous eyebrow.

“Of course I do!” Aang practically hopped over to Hakoda’s protruding femur.

“So, Haru, it’s been a while. H-how are you?” Zuko began shakily.

“Great! Studying under Bumi has been incredible.” Haru’s green eyes lit up at the mention of the old chief of orthopedics.

“Bumi is, uh... something else.” Zuko let out a nervous laugh, trying to pretend he didn’t have a strange rivalry with the old king of ortho. “He’s been in the O.R. since it was lit by candles.”

“I see you haven’t changed.” Haru laughed. “You were always known for your little quips.”

“What quips?” Zuko stared blankly up at the pair of surgeons. 

“Oh, Zuko doesn’t think of them as quips.” Aang chimed. “That’s just how he thinks.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go scrub out.” Zuko rolled his eyes and pulled his gown off his body. 

The last words he heard from Aang’s mouth were “we call him the Fire Lord.” Extra emphasis on the “fire.”

* * *

Haru and Aang eventually emerged from the O.R. looking like a newly official couple on prom night. Zuko held back a gag as he scribbled away at his surgical notes.

“Oh! Aang!” Haru cooed. “Look at you! You’ve got the _ ortho glow _ .”

_ “No!” _ Zuko burst suddenly. “No, Aang, no you don’t. There’s no such thing.”

Aang’s eyebrows shot up, his jaw dropping. “You’re jealous! Zuko’s jealous!”

“Shut up. Oh! Sokka!” The cardio attending broke straight through his gloom and into the pediatric rainbows that were walking by. “Your dad’s in recovery. He’s not gonna be awake for a while, though. Wanna scrub in on my  angioplasty ? For a distraction?”

“Is it for a kid?” Sokka raised his eyebrow.

“…no.” Zuko deflated slightly.

“Then, no.” Sokka shook his head, smiling at Zuko's tenacity.

“I’ll let you play your music!” Zuko pouted his lip.

“You drive a hard bargain, but still no. I don’t need any company right now.”

“Well maybe _ I _ want the company!”

“You  _ have _ a resident!” Sokka laughed for the first time all day.

“No! Residents are boring. All they want to do is  _ learn. _ ” Zuko sighed, resting his chin on his hand as the gloom settled back down onto his head.

“Ouch?” Aang winced.

“Not you. You don’t count.” Zuko waved his hand. “You’re not really a resident anymore. You’re my son. My cardio son.”

“Oh!” Aang cooed. “Zuko! I’m so-”

“Just scrub, don’t get emotional, son.” He stopped in his tracks. “I’m gonna be a grandpa. Huh.”


	5. Is There Somebody Who Can Watch You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a semester of college. Had a breakdown over finals procrastination. Bon appetite.

The rain fell from the afternoon sky. It splashed against the bricks on the sides of the building and raced its way down the windows, the fluorescent light shining brightly against the glass in a striking contrast to the dingy grey clouds outside. Sokka wasn’t used to the rain so much as the snow. Lots and lots of snow.

Omashu was a stark change compared to his previous posting. Comm South was horrifyingly cold, but Sokka didn’t mind. He had quite a tolerance for the weather down there. It was a dry kind of freezing, not the wet kind. In fact, he was a little worried that his first month with Omashu’s rain might end with him catching a flu of some sort.

“Start from the beginning.” Zuko slapped his tray onto the cafeteria table, startling an unassuming Sokka and snapping him straight out of his budding distraction of a daydream about his very own Dr. Zuko taking a sick day with him.

“About what?” He made a half-hearted attempt at hiding his knowledge of Zuko’s meaning.

“Uh.” Zuko cracked into a carrot stick. “Your dad’s upstairs and your  _ sister  _ is downstairs? What the hell, dude?”

“I don’t see the problem.” Sokka took a snarky sip of coffee. “Katara is my sister.” He buried his head in his cup, trying not to think about how  _ fantastic  _ Zuko’s biceps looked in those tight red scrubs. He wonders if it’s horrible to be this turned on when his family is wracked with scandal and wrath.

Actually, that’s probably exactly  _ why  _ he’s feeling like this. Zuko would always help him work through this stuff. He was horrible at emotions himself, but his uncle’s wisdom rubbed off on him. He could be insanely helpful when he wanted to be.

He was always massively good at distracting Sokka with his actions when his words didn’t do the trick. Sokka would sometimes hope that Zuko would get tongue-tied… just like he’s hoping now.

Meanwhile, Zuko had to resist the urge to slam his head down onto his tray. Instead, he simply glared at the obstinate boy in front of him and let his eyes do the talking. Aang momentarily interrupted and nearly cut through the power of Zuko’s gaze as he sat down, but in the end it got through.

“Fine!” Sokka dropped his spoon. Not tongue-tied. “I just… I can’t believe my dad did this to us.”

“Sokka…” Zuko relaxed his brow and mentally changed lanes from stubborness to complete and utter motherly nurture. He was going to need it for the impending breakdown. 

Zuko was never the best mother hen in college because it was always Sokka. It came as no surprise to those who knew them back in the day, but Sokka was always the “mom” friend. Everyone was required to text him when they got home after a fun night out, in which he was drinking less to ensure everyone’s safety. Even though he was a total frat boy, he was able to show restraint for the sake of his friends. He would carry around snacks in his backpack for Zuko when the two of them would get out of their organic chemistry lab and had to rush straight to their bio class which ran through lunch. His shoulder was the go-to when things weren’t going well. Sokka was a fierce friend. He loved in extremes. He didn’t know any other way.

Zuko kept that in the front of his mind as he prepared to repay the favor.

“Except, that’s the thing. They agreed to this. They both  _ actually  _ agreed to this. This is so unlike my dad, I swear.” Sokka sat back in his chair and huffed. His nose crumpled as he watched the intern in charge of his father’s post-op care saunter into the cafeteria. 

Aang casually took a meager bite of his salad. This mysterious sister is his fiance now. He contemplated getting up and leaving, but he was a little too invested in what was happening at the table.

“You don’t have to convince me.” Zuko threw his hands up in defence, his carrot hanging out of his mouth. “I’ve always been a Hakoda fan.”

“No, Zuko, you don’t get it!” Sokka snapped at him for the first time in a long time. “This isn’t like him! This is horrible!”

He took a moment to breathe before responding. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Sokka let a long breath hiss out through his nose as he rubbed his temples. “Zuko, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“If anyone has the license to, it’s you.” Aang looked up from his plate.

Sokka didn’t quite know what to do with Aang. On one hand, he was a little surgical buddy. They had fun in the OR because they had good chemistry and Aang loved Sokka’s playlists (the same could  _ not _ be said for Zuko). He was a fun guy to take to the bar because the frat boy in Sokka could crack the innocent Aang’s shell every time.

But. He’s getting married to Katara. More than that, actually.

He  _ impregnated  _ Katara. That’s just different altogether.

“Life is weird.” Sokka gave in to his mixed feelings and uttered the wisest words he could muster. He pushed his tray to the center of the table and rested his head on the cold wood. It felt nice, ironically, since it was still raining frozen cats and dogs outside. “I need a distraction.”

“Uh oh.” Aang dropped his fork onto his salad, prompting Sokka to look up at him.

“What?” Sokka raised an eyebrow. He looked between his two tablemates.

“It’s happening to him.” Aang ignored him, leaving Sokka no choice but to look to Zuko for the answers. The only answer he got was a somber nod.

“What’s happening to me?” Sokka sat upright, a slightly panicked tinge to his voice.

“Listen closely.” Zuko leaned forward on his elbows, sparking Sokka’s interest. “There are  _ things _ that  _ happen  _ at this hospital.”

Sokka’s face and shoulders drop in disappointment. These men are supposed to be  _ doctors.  _ Like,  _ intelligent  _ doctors.  _ The best in the world  _ kind of doctors.

“Glad to know you’re putting that philosophy minor to good use, Zuko.” Sokka said dryly.

“Okay, smartass.” He jokingly ruffled Sokka’s small ponytail. “You know what I mean.”

Try as he might, Sokka attempted and failed  _ not _ to turn bright red. Only a cardio surgeon could make his heart beat like this.

“This hospital is notorious for being notorious.” Aang picked up his fork as mysteriously as one could possibly pick up a fork. Then again, Aang was about as mysterious as a rubber duck, so it wasn’t truly mysterious at all.

“Stop talking in riddles.” Sokka let his face fall deadpan, though his heart was still beating like crazy. Could Zuko hear him? He wondered, panicked at the mere thought.

“What he  _ means is– _ ” Zuko smacks Aang’s fork back down in scorn. “-this hospital is full of complete buffoonery. This place will make your life absolutely  _ bonkers.  _ Take Aang here for example. He starts his intern year, right? Three months later, his  _ entire family  _ dies in a plane crash.”

“Aang!” Sokka’s ponytail flew as he shot an aggressively sympathetic look to where the resident sat on his right.

“Not important.” Aang waved his hand as Sokka pulled his head back in surprise. “Take Jet. He started to work on this big government funded research project and wound up getting amnesia. For a whole  _ year _ he couldn’t recognize his best friends.”

“What!?” 

“Or even Hama! She was one of our best hematologists until she started blackmailing her patients.” Zuko burst.

“Can we go back to the thing about Aang?”

“Oh! And that group of interns the year behind me cut the LVAD wire of a patient to steal a heart off the transplant list!” Aang slapped his hand on the table before stuffing a cherry tomato into his mouth.

“Wait–”

“And there was that one attending who jilted that intern at the altar.” Zuko raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, stop!” Sokka put his hands up, dangerously close to Zuko’s and Aang’s respective faces. “I said I needed a distraction, not a whole freaking bedtime story.”

“These are all true stories, Sokka! Zuko even put his hand into a heart with a  _ live bomb  _ in it.”

Zuko never seriously considered killing Aang until that moment. He’d definitely thought about it a few times. When Aang nicked the carotid of a graft patient, for example. Still, he fixed it. Zuko could’t fix this.

Sokka’s stomach wrenched into a tough knot as he turned to the pillar of embarrassment to his left. When their eyes met, Zuko practically sank into himself.

“You… did  _ what? _ ” Mother Sokka’s scolding tone emerged.

“Had you been there, you would have done the same!” Zuko tried to bargain.

As Sokka moved to open his mouth, Zuko was rescued by a shrill chorus of chiming from his and all surrounding phones.

“A whole hoard of incoming traumas on their way in.” Aang chirped before shoving as much lettuce as humanly possible into his mouth.

“What?” Zuko seemed to swallow a carrot whole. “What happened?”

“Private high school rugby team.” Aang reads on his phone. “Apparently a car drove out onto the field.”

“Holy  _ shit.  _ Seriously?” Sokka leapt to his feet.

“This is  _ your  _ fault, you know.” Zuko raised an eyebrow, gently smirking so as to make Sokka’s knees weak. “You said you needed a distraction.”

“Damn.” Sokka gulped, trying without success _ not _ to appear completely turned on by the cardio god. “This really is me, isn’t it?”

Zuko shrugged and bounced off his heels ever so slightly. He patted Sokka jokingly on the arm before taking off after Aang, who had knocked down an intern in his excited rush to get to the ER, which was consequently  _ away  _ from Sokka and the drama involving the brand new fiance.

* * *

“Suki, what’s the situation?” Chief Pakku charged into the ER, leading the crew on call. He tossed the box of trauma gowns over his shoulder.

“It’s my old high school, chief.” She jogged towards the crowd of doctors as she tied her gown shut around her waist. “The Kyoshi Warriors made it to the finals for the first time in almost a decade so a lot of students were there. 3 minutes out.”

“And the driver? The crowd?” Pakku pressed.

“Driver was DOA. All adult pedestrians and spectators are going to Kingdom General.” Suki and her well-oiled team of nurses filed out the door as the rest of the staff stumbled behind.

Sokka knew what’s going on. He knew good and well that a bunch of teenagers just got mowed down by a presumably drunk driver. He knew that children are most likely dead.

But Zuko’s waistline was so perfectly accentuated by the cord of the trauma gown that Sokka might actually pass out. It’s just that his physique was so… delicious.

“Sokka!” Pakku had called for the third time.

“Yes, chief!” He shook his head in another feeble attempt to get out of his Zuko-induced fog. “Here, chief!”

“These are teenagers. You’re leading the charge today but only technically, got it?” Pakku raised a stern gloved finger. Sokka nodded promptly. “Don’t worry about being on top of everything. It’ll be a zoo.”

And a zoo it was.

Within moments, the ER was full to bursting with rugby players, cheerleaders, students from the crowd, all hysterical. Sokka found that his head was spinning. Today of all days.

As he signed off on a chart and officially sent his patient up to radiology, he heard Zuko chatting with a few cheerleaders. Out of sheer morbid curiosity and the absolute completely necessary duty as chief of pediatric surgery to check on these teenagers, he drifted their way. Casually, of course. Totally necessary.

“I’m a college cheerleader, you know.” She curled her dark ponytail with a manicured finger as Zuko ran his stethoscope down her back. “They only brought us in because the high school was making national news.” Sokka rolled his eyes. He slept with many a girl like her in his undergrad days.

“How exciting for you.” Zuko couldn’t have been more disinterested if he took a pill to achieve it. Sokka couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Zuko’s bedside manner. With Rorri, he was brilliant. That’s how Zuko works. He cares about everyone, but his favorites know who they are.

“So… if you’re going to fix my leg you’re going to need to take off my skirt… right?”

Sokka stuck out his tongue instinctively. Blech.

“I’m a cardio-thoracic surgeon.” Zuko’s voice went flat.

She smiled blankly at him.

“...a heart doctor.”

“So? You can examine my heart any time you’d like.” She pulled at the hem of her uniform top.

“I already did. It’s not your heart that’s the problem. And I don’t  _ do _ broken legs. I’ll page ortho for you again. I’m sure you’ll find Haru a more than sufficient replacement.” He gave a weak smile to the girl and turned, running into Sokka.

Sokka didn’t really mind that he yelped like a puppy. For once in his life, he’s  _ not  _ trying to sleep with the cheerleader.

“Everything in ship shape, Chief Sokka?” Zuko gave a small smile, which was more than Sokka could muster.

“Uh, yeah!” He exclaimed unconvincingly and scratched the back of his head. “I’ve got Aang doing a transection repair… do you… want to join him?’

“Sure. As if he needs my help anymore.” Zuko raised an eyebrow, his favorite goofy grin plastered on his face.

“I’ve gotta scrub in, too, actually.” Sokka pathetically jogged to catch up with Zuko’s determinedly fast pace. “Removing a spleen. Fun, right?”

Zuko could sense Sokka’s awkwardness. Sokka was a lot of things, but he really wasn’t awkward. He was goofy. He was happy. He was upbeat. Sure, he put his foot in his mouth sometimes, but he was never this bad.

Without thinking, Zuko pulled Sokka into the nearest supply closet.

“Hey!” He squawked as Zuko flung him by the wrist.

“What’s going on?” With his arms crossed, the cardio surgeon looked more domineering than ever. Zuko uses his Fire Lord persona to his own psychological advantage.

“W-what do you mean?” Sokka tried.

“Is it your dad? Katara?” He let his arms fall to soften his appearance. He was interrogating Sokka, definitely, but he couldn’t let Sokka know that too directly. After all, Zuko definitely cares.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not letting you go into an O.R. like this. You’re obviously not okay.” He reaches up to hold Sokka by the shoulders. “I care about you more, definitely, but I took an oath to protect anyone going under the knife today. What’s up?”

Sokka heaved a massive sigh. “I’ve been meaning to say something.” He looked down at their shoes. He took another massive breath in, ready to spit it all out.

Until he realized that he shouldn’t. He stammered a few words out, wishing he could take them back the instant that he spoke them. He started a sentence or two and regretted them. He can’t ruin their friendship. Zuko ran last time. 

He can’t lose Zuko again.

“You’re being awkward, Sokka.” Zuko raised an eyebrow. Sokka was taken aback by hearing his name. “You’re only ever awkward when you have a crush on someone.”

Zuko’s face falls when he realizes the words that came out of his mouth.


	6. The Night We Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka's bomb-drop of a confession has both him and Zuko reeling in the aftermath. Left to treat the patients from the massive rugby accident, Zuko pays a visit to an unexpected patient and Sokka reminisces on times gone by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to avoid finals stress? By procrastinating with your Zukka fic, of course! (I promise I'm getting work done.) (Kinda.)

Zuko blinked. Then he blinked again. Sokka even blinked back.

The golden eyes blinked in confusion. The blue eyes blinked in guilt.

Zuko blinked like a man who couldn’t remember the last five minutes of his life. Sokka blinked like a cat who got caught knocking glasses off of a tabletop. Zuko blinked like he walked into the supermarket and realized he left his wallet at home. Sokka blinked like he was at gunpoint.

“You? I mean, I–” Zuko started and stopped. “We? Y-you and I.”

Sokka was too frightened to respond.

“There’s a surgery.” Zuko stated flatly, his voice cracking.

“...yes there is.” Sokka decided to tread delicately.

“I’m helping. It’s your surgery. A-are you gonna do it?” He gestured towards the closed supply closet door.

“Legally I can’t say no.” He furrows his brow as he searches Zuko’s deadpan eyes for any sign of genuine life.

“Good.” Zuko turned and robotically left the room.

The door slammed behind him, masking the sound of Sokka taking a massive, gasping breath. He gripped the metal shelves with such intensity that his knuckles turned white. His breathing turned into more of a dry heave than anything remotely useful. The only thing keeping him from passing out was the thought of a child waiting on an operating table in need of help. Slowly, he took a deep breath in and held it for an embarrassingly long time before running his fingers through his hair. 

Walking towards the OR made Sokka feel like a fox during a hunt. His eyes constantly flitted from door to door, down every hallway, looking for Zuko’s face. Sokka wasn’t entirely sure whether he wanted to see him or not. After all, Zuko was like a cat. Slow to trust, quick to retreat, and very easy to scare.

The therapeutic nature of scrubbing into a surgery calmed him down. No matter what happens outside, the OR is a safe zone for Sokka. Most surgeons feel this way, Zuko included. Sokka felt like he was in control here. Even when things go wrong, he knows what to do. He knows how to manage the damage in a second-nature kind of way that’s foreign in the outside world sometimes.

The OR is clean, thanks to the beads of water dripping down his hands and the soap bubbles that slide into the sink. The OR is predictable due to the incredible amount of organization and the loyal scrub nurses who keep it that way. The patients are the only variable, and even then they’re _supposed to be._ That’s the whole point. They’ve trained for their whole lives to be prepared to deal with that variable in the best way possible. It just makes sense when not a lot of other things do.

“Sokka!” Aang hissed, snapping Sokka only slightly out of his daze. “What did you do!?”

Sokka continued to scrub, only harder and more violently. Aang could definitely tell that Sokka knew exactly what he was talking about. Nobody tried to physically remove their skin in the scrub room unless they were deep in their own mind.

“What did you do!?” Aang ripped Sokka’s arm from the sink, earning a curse. “You broke Zuko! What the hell, dude?”

“Wait– you _talked_ to him!?” He squeaked. “What did he say!?”

“Zuko said he had to go take care of something and that he would return ‘forthwith.’ _Forthwith._ What the hell kind of a word is that?” Aang spat.

“Deal with something?” Sokka squinted. “Did he say what?” Oh no. Oh no no _no_. Zuko wasn’t exactly known for dealing with things terribly well. 

“Not a thing. Just disappeared into the bathroom.” Aang shrugged. “Which is weird because he _never_ pees at work. He has a bladder like a camel.”

“Oh my- wait, what?”

“He finds the bathrooms here condescending.”

Sokka heaved a disturbingly heavy sigh and rested his hands on the edge of the sink. He brought his shoulder blades together as he dropped his chin to his chest.

This isn’t the first time that he broke Zuko...

* * *

_That guy was… staring at him. Like... Staring. Properly staring. Jaw hanging down, eyes glazed, everything._

_It was obvious to Zuko that the boy across the tea shop was trying to cover it up, but it was failing miserably. He tried to ignore his uncle’s eyebrows wiggling excitedly._

_“Don’t even say it, Uncle.” Zuko huffed. “You know I’m with Mai.”_

_“Zuko.” Iroh sighed, placing a loving hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “That’s over. You said so yourself.”_

_“It… it might not be. Just because I left the forensic pathology department doesn’t mean that we aren’t together anymore.” He tried not to feel too bummed out. The kid across the coffee shop was certainly helping him get over it, though. Not like he would ever admit_ that _to his uncle._

_“She saw that as a major betrayal. I’m still very proud of you for deciding to help living people.” Iroh shuddered. “I just couldn’t bear to think of you stuck in a morgue somewhere.”_

_“Why are you changing the subject, Uncle?”_

_Iroh paused, wondering if he even had the authority to reveal the information he had, much less what effects it would have on his nephew._

_“She was in here the other day.”_

_“And?”_

_“She was with a fellow from the university. I don’t quite remember but I think I heard his name… Kan Lo? Kar Lo?” Iroh furrows his brow when he sees his nephew staring at a boy in the corner of the shop. “Kei Lo?”_

_Zuko’s spine snapped straight, his gaze moving sharply down to the floor. “I know him. He was always flirting with her in our medical law class.” He instantly smacked his forehead. How could he be so_ stupid?

_“It’s alright, Zuko. People move on. She did and so will you.” Iroh nudged him with his elbow. “It seems you’ve already got some plans to.”_

_“W-what?” Zuko stuttered._

_“You’ve looked at that young man, what, at least ten times since he walked in?”_

_“Oh, yeah, that… I think he’s in one of my classes. That’s all.” Zuko shrugged in an attempt to let the subject drop._

_“Perfect.” Iroh smiled. He rushed around the edge of the counter to avoid Zuko’s grasping hands and hissing whispers of protest._

_Zuko debated whether he should crawl beneath the counter or just straight up leave instead. He didn’t have much time at all to consider either of his options - though in reality several minutes had passed and Zuko had just been equal parts blissfully and stressfully unaware of them - because the boy was getting up. He was following Uncle Iroh. He was coming up to the counter to talk to Zuko._

_His brain short-circuited._

_“Hey! You’re in my biochem & genetics class, right?” He flashed a toothy smile. “I’m Sokka.” He held out his hand, wafting his scent towards the awkward, kinda-smitten boy. Zuko noticed that he smelled like rain. When their hands touched, he expected some sort of explosion or a spark, but none came from anything except from him. _

_“H-hi!” Zuko burst with a little too much gumption and immediately made the wise decision to tone it down a notch. “I’m Zuko.” He grinned, not exactly knowing what to say next._

_“I told this nice young man that you were looking for a roommate for next term.” Iroh nodded at an unexpected nephew._

_“I am? I am.” Zuko nodded, pressing his lips together._

_“That would be awesome, Zuko. Really, I’d be so grateful if we could go in on a place together.” Sokka shrugged his back further up his shoulder. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but you seem like a cool guy.”_

_That was the first time that his ocean eyes lured Zuko in and let him get lost. Suddenly, being a ‘cool guy’ was all Zuko cared about or was proud about in any way. Did Sokka know how wrong he was? Did Sokka know how deeply afraid he was of this simple interaction? How the fear of messing this up crept into his mind and made itself at home?_

_That was the first time that Sokka broke Zuko. And it definitely wouldn’t be the last, at least Zuko hoped._

_They exchanged a brief moment of silence that lasted an eternity. It would have seemed awkward and uncomfortable to anyone else, but Zuko didn’t mind… and neither did Sokka for that matter. Iroh stood in a strange mix of understanding and excitement._

_“Well, you know where to find him.” Iroh piped in to save his nephew’s tail._

_“Sweet. I’ll stop by tomorrow, yeah?” He snapped his fingers as he flounced out of the shop, his ponytail swooping behind him._

_Zuko didn’t say another word until he saw Sokka again the next day._

* * *

“Well I certainly didn’t expect _you_ to be my first visitor.” Hakoda groaned as he leaned over the railing of his bed to turn on the white fluorescent room light.

“I… I didn’t really know who else to come to.” Zuko approached his bedside slowly. Hakoda tried not to gasp at his appearance. He’d seen Zuko in the hallway window not only an hour or two ago looking as brisk and focused as he’d ever been.

The Zuko in front of him was a different man altogether.

He looked tired. Not the ‘I’m a surgeon’ kind of tired he was used to seeing in Sokka. No, Zuko was emotionally tired. The fluorescents didn’t do his pale face any favors. In fact, it made him look more sick than ever. He looked like a man on the brink of giving up.

But his gold eyes still had their shine. That’s all that gave Hakoda hope.

“I’m sorry… I’m the doctor here.” Zuko shook his head slowly, his eyebrows scrunched together in slight embarrassment. “Are you okay?”

“Come on in here and you’ll find out just how okay I am.” Hakoda gave his honorary son a smile. “Really, Zuko. Your hands are like magic.”

“You should see your son’s.” Zuko sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

Hakoda pursed his lips for a moment in disgust before his expression fell apart entirely due to Zuko’s impending tears. 

“I’m so sorry. That sounded so wrong.” He managed to express between staggered, erratic sobbing breaths. “I just meant that your son is a really great surgeon.”

“And that you still love him?” Hakoda placed a comforting hand on Zuko’s arm.

“Is it that obvious?” He sniffles, wiping his hoodie cuff on his nose.

“Am I supposed to take that question seriously?” Hakoda scoffed playfully enough so as to not let Zuko’s deep-seated insecurities take hold. “Zuko, the only reason that you’ve made it this far is because, no matter how smart my son may be, he’s an absolute idiot.”

Zuko let out a snoring laugh through his nose as he got his breath somewhat back to normal. Hakoda is _not_ wrong. “You’re telling me?” 

“You’re the one person in the world I shouldn’t have to tell.” Hakoda shook his head, remembering their medical school days.

He questioned whether he should tell Zuko about what his honest first impressions of him were. They weren’t good by any means, but he never hated the boy. With a father whose medical career surrounds big pharmaceutical companies, Zuko was hated by many who first laid eyes on him. They didn’t know about the soft kid hiding underneath.

“Hakoda…” Zuko let out a long breath. “Do you… do you think Sokka–?”

“Likes you, too? Oh, yeah. There’s no question.”

Zuko blinked. Then he blinked again.

“Do you know how I know?” Hakoda casually sipped from his water cup. “I know because after his first day of work here, he called me. He called me _crying_ about how happy he was that you worked there, too.”

“Did he tell you everything about that day?” He looked to the floor, slightly embarrassed about what had happened with Rorri. That definitely wasn’t how he wanted his reunion with Sokka to go in hindsight. Aang had told him that everything happens for a reason, but Zuko can’t find any reason for the universe to justify that.

“About the girl dying on your table? Oh, he told me. And, to be honest, I was glad to hear it.” Hakoda continued after a mildly horrified look from the doctor at his bedside. “Not about the girl dying, I mean. I was happy to hear that… well, that you had a heart.”

“Happy to hear that I’m not _my father,_ you mean?” The string of his hoodie suddenly became the brunt of Zuko’s nervous energy.

“I know you were afraid that you’d become him. But I can promise you that you’re cut from a different cloth.” Hakoda leaned forward to hold Zuko’s face in his hands. “And Sokka is over the moon to have you back in his life.”

“Then…” Zuko stared back with scared eyes as he dissolved into tears. “...why did he leave me?”

The Fire Lord collapsed onto Hakoda’s lap in another fit of what future Zuko would consider to be embarrassing in hindsight. His question had genuinely stumped its recipient. Hakoda didn’t completely understand why it happened back when it was happening.

“I always told Sokka that he made a big mistake in leaving you behind.” Hakoda rubbed circles into Zuko’s back. His heart ached suddenly, but not in a physical pain. Zuko had never had a father or mother’s lap to cry on. Hakoda could only be there for him now. “You helped him through a terrible phase in his life. The whole business with Yue? You saved him from it all. And it could only have been you.”

Zuko heaved into the soft hospital blankets for what felt like years. Neither Hakoda nor Zuko really knew what to do. The stand-in father felt like a water balloon had popped all over him, not only because of the insane amount of tears this surgeon was putting out. Zuko felt like an old bottle of champagne who finally got to burst open, his emotions the bubbles that fizzed over the top.

“He told me he’d never make that mistake ever again.” Hakoda muttered. “So you sit here. You cry. Let it out. And when it's out, you go and find him. Go and save a life together, just like you always dreamed of doing.”

Zuko’s puffy, red face reappeared with a smile forcing its way out.

* * *

“Dude! What the hell happened!?” The resident appeared squarely in front of his attending. “I was worried sick about you!”

“I just… learned something. That’s all.” Zuko took a sharp, calm breath.

“Something bad?” Aang shifted his weight between his feet. He hadn’t seen so much emotion in his attending surgeon since… _ever._ Aang prayed that Zuko could forgive him for not quite knowing how to act. Should he be fierce towards Sokka, the obvious source of all these feelings? Should he be trying to calm Zuko down? Would this be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t afraid to ask? Definitely.

“Nothing bad at all.” Zuko let himself genuinely laugh. He watched as Aang’s face relaxed intensely.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” His shoulders shake slightly and gently as to prevent himself from breaking his scrub. “I’m sorry… You’ll be in there alone with Sokka. I got called into an emergency lung transplant because, well, nobody knew where you were.”

“No problem. I’ll be in to help when I’m done.” Zuko nodded, a small grin on his face. As Aang turned to leave, Zuko called out after him.

“Yeah?” His resident turned back.

“I’m so proud of you.” Zuko looked up with tears in his eyes. “You’ve learned so well through all these years. And thanks for always looking out for me. I can’t remember a day at work where you didn’t ask how I was.”

Aang was far less talented at keeping any tears at bay. That’s what Zuko always loved about him. All he needed to do was nod before backing into his OR as Zuko prepared to enter his.

Scrubbing was never Zuko’s favorite part of the day. It was just the warmup. He wanted the game. The OR was his happy place and he wouldn't deny it, but scrubbing was never the highlight. He never understood how Sokka loved it so much. He could go on and on about how thrilling it was and how safe it made him feel. 

He stands up straight to look at Sokka through the tiny window from the scrub room. _He’s_ what makes Zuko feel safe, not some soap and water. Of course, as a doctor, Zuko would never stop singing the praises of how great and important washing your hands is, but Sokka had that same effect on him. Sokka made him feel right. He helped Zuko to organize all of his thoughts, throwing the bad ones out and keeping the ones that helped him grow. He was the sharp brush that gave him the tough love and scrubbed his life clean.

Out of the corner of his sight, Sokka saw a dash of black hair come through the scrub room door.

There he was with his deep red scrubs all wrapped in a sterile gown, his strong hands outlined in his gloves, and a strange smile in his tired eyes. Zuko approaches the table slowly and holds out his hand for a blade.

“I’m ready to go, Doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going for the vibe of that one Grey's flashback-ish episode when Derek, Mark, and Addison remembered their old med school days! I indulged in a few cliches this time and I had fun writing it (which I try to tell myself is all that matters)!


	7. Total Eclipse of the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the sweet comments & notes, guys! They've been making this hard winter so much easier. As I always say:   
> "post now, proofread later." Enjoy the trash! (sorry to all the Yue stans in advance ope)

“Really? After all we’ve been through?” Sokka threw a sassy glare at Aang.

“Sokka, I’ve only really known you for, like, a few months. I was on Zuko’s service on my very first day as an intern.  _ Zuko’s _ my best man.” Aang placed his chart on the counter. “I’m not budging on this one.”

“But I’m your fiancé’s brother! Isn’t that some sort of tradition?” Sokka pled.

“No, it’s really not. Especially when you didn’t know you were my fiancé’s brother until, like, last week.” Aang sighed. “If you were my brother, yes. But you’re out of luck. Besides, if I were into the whole stag night thing, you’d be who I’d call anyways. Zuko’s just babysitting the rings mostly.”

“I’m still a groomsman. That’s still a win in my book.” His smile tinged with notes of smugness that actually caused Aang to let out a laugh. “Dude, go home. Get some rest.”

“You guys are here all night, yeah?” Those words caused Sokka to wheeze. Why did Aang have to be such a dedicated chief resident?

“I’ve got a kid prepping for an appy right now.” He placed a hand on Aang’s scrub-clad shoulder. “Now,  _ go.  _ Head on home. We’ll see you in the morning. Even though I’d be the best best man you’d ever had, it’s still gonna be a beautiful ceremony.”

“Don’t let him try and talk you out of it. I make a great best man.” Zuko appeared behind them in very proper Zuko fashion.

“Believe me, I know.” Sokka winced internally. Why the hell did he say that? It came out entirely wrong.

He considered apologizing for the few seconds they stared at each other. Within an instant, Sokka saw tears form at the corners of Zuko’s eyes moments before he turned swiftly away, wafting air into Sokka’s face with the sheer speed of his exit. Aang rolled his eyes and set his jaw in frustration.

“Have you guys tried, I dunno, talking?”

“You know Zuko. Hell, you’ve met Zuko. ‘Talking it out’ isn’t exactly his strong suit. He’s more of an action man.” Sokka rubbed the bridge of his nose incessantly. 

“I also know that he’ll avoid the problem at all costs unless he absolutely needs to face it.” Aang’s tone became suddenly solemn as he scraped his chart across the counter.

“I know that, too.” Sokka muttered to himself.

* * *

_ Zuko knew something was wrong the moment he heard a shrill and echoing clicking along with Sokka’s footsteps down the hall. They seemed to turn the corner in slow motion. Sokka spread his goofy smile when he saw his roommate’s face. His arms were tanned and beautiful as always, and were perfectly accentuated by the duffle bag he was hanging by his fingers across his back. His elbow popped up slightly when Zuko greeted him… and the girl next to him. _

_ “This is Yue, my fiancé.” The girl smiled and gave Zuko a delicate wave before shifting her attention to their brand new apartment. The emptiness of the walls combined with the bland beige of the scattered moving boxes only augmented the humbleness of it all. Yue picked up on that attentively with her razor sharp gaze. _

_ “Honey, really? I can set you up with a nicer place than this!” Yue walked a circle in the small living room. Zuko did his best not to be offended at her remarks. “Plus, there’s only one bed! What if he wants to… you know…?” _

_ “I don’t.” Zuko set his eyes on hers. “I had a pretty nasty breakup so I’m gonna finish school before I… get romantic again.” _

_ “Huh. Well, I respect your dedication to your priorities.” Yue raised her eyebrows, an impressed smile on her lips. Her blue eyes seared into Zuko with an intense heat that made the back of his neck burn. _

_ “Really, there’s no need. We can afford this place just fine.” Sokka dropped his bag with a strange resignation. _

_ “So, Yue, are you from the South, too?” It took all of Zuko’s energy and what little charisma within him to not stutter those words out of his mouth. _

_ “Oh, goodness, no. I’m from the North!” Yue laughed, making both Zuko and Sokka vastly uncomfortable. He hadn’t known Sokka for very long, but his Southern identity is very obviously near to his heart. _

_ “Well, thanks for the lift, babe. You don’t wanna miss your plane.” Sokka nudged. He couldn’t help but think he was coming across as a bit too desperate for her to leave. His heart thumped in his chest at the thought of being alone with Zuko, but his heart ached at the thought of his damning loyalty. He would never want to put Zuko in that position. _

_ “Oh! You’re right!” She planted a long kiss on him. “See you at the altar, darling. Oh, and Zuko? Take very good care of my guy, okay?” _

_ “Sure thing.” Zuko pressed his lips together in the best smile he can muster. _

* * *

Yue occupied Sokka’s mind more often than he wished. Silently he wondered if Zuko had the same problem. It was such a dreadful business that it would be nearly impossible for anyone to forget. Still, Hakoda mentioned after the fact that all of the guests thought it was positively thrilling.

Then again, they had the privilege to treat it like a soap opera. It wasn’t their lives. They didn’t have to  _ live with it. _

Sokka began his soothing scrub routine, washing away the thoughts of Yue, as an unexpected face entered the room.

“K-Katara?” Goodbye scrub serenity.

“Y-your appy. She’s pregnant.” As Katara spoke those words, Sokka suddenly realized that he’d suddenly forgotten that minors  _ can _ be pregnant.

“You aren’t operating, are you?” He continued to scrub, slightly irritated yet incredibly frightened at the prospect of spending an hour with his brand new (to him) sister. Zuko had definitely tried to kick his ass a while ago for not having talked to her yet and would most likely have an aneurysm if he found out that, mere hours before her wedding, Sokka was finally doing it.

* * *

_ “I… I think I’m gonna do it.” Sokka’s smile frightened Zuko from across the kitchen. _

_ “...do what?” He treaded lightly, afraid that the question might spook him into making a bad decision. Zuko would normally see it fit to respond to that fear with ‘as if Sokka could possibly make a bad decision at all,’ but he has a feeling that statement wasn’t true at all. That inclination didn’t come from Sokka’s lack of intelligence, rather Zuko wasn’t entirely sure about his judgement when it came to his impending nuptials. _

_ “I’m gonna accept Ba Sing Medical’s offer.” Sokka furrowed his brow slightly as a wave of confidence washed over him. “I already know the professors, I’m familiar with the campus, plus all of my scholarships carry over. I’d be stupid not to.” He thumped his fingers on the table as Zuko shifted his weight slightly. _

_ “What will…” Zuko had to fight the urge to call her ‘she’ with a slight grimace, “...what will Yue think?” He gripped the edges of the countertop where he sat as he waited for his answer. _

_ Sokka took a long moment of pensive pause. It was needless to say that Zuko would have paid anything to know what was going on in that pretty little head of his. Not that it was too hard to guess, anyways. He could see Sokka’s veins popping from across the room. _

_ “She won’t be happy.” He bit the inside of his cheek. _

_ “I mean… did she ever explicitly tell you that you should accept North U’s offer?” Was this interfering? This was definitely interfering. It’s not that Zuko wanted Sokka not to get married… it’s just that he would like it very much if Sokka weren’t getting married. He definitely inherited his uncle’s love of meddling. _

_ Sokka’s eyes widened and he swiveled his head in Zuko’s direction. “No! Good thinking, Zu!” His fingers flew into a flurry of determined typing. _

_ “I mean, you could still end up working at her dad’s private practice, right?” Zuko stifled a laugh as Sokka rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. _

_ “Only if I absolutely have to. Even then…” Sokka coughed. “I’d rather do a million things than work at  _ Moon Spirit Natural Healing.  _ Do you even know me at all?” _

_ “So what’s your plan, then?”  _

_ “Oh, Zuko, c’mon. You’re always thinking of what’s next instead of taking steps right now.” Sokka instantly realized the error of his logic. “And now I’m gonna eat my words because I wanna ask you…”  _

_ Zuko held his breath. His mind flew through different far-fetched hopes that he didn’t even completely understand  _ if  _ he wanted, much less  _ why.  _ Well, that last part was a lie. Zuko definitely knows why. It’s the way that Sokka’s eyes always smile before his lips do, a trait that Zuko found immensely precious. It’s the fact that this boy could lead a group project like nobody’s business. It’s the little doodles that he’ll draw in the corners of his newspaper or on the paper napkins left over from takeout or even on Zuko’s cardiology notes. No wonder Zuko was holding his breath. _

_ “Look, you’ve helped me through so much and honestly, I can’t think of anyone better for the job… do you want to be my best man?” _

_ The breath released. _

_ Luckily for Zuko, it sounded like a huff of surprise to an outsider rather than a sigh of disappointment. _

_ “Of course. I’d be honored to.” _

* * *

“I doubt you remember me.” Katara broke the long silence as she flicked her bright blue eyes down to the small incision and back up to the monitor.

“Well, I certainly can’t forget you now, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No, no. I’m not going to take this beautiful day and tarnish it by talking about what our parents did all that time ago.” Katara’s eyebrows furrowed down to her mask.

“Fair play.” Sokka raised an eyebrow as he positioned his grasps accordingly to the inflamed appendix. “Aang’s a good kid. I know you weren’t asking for my approval, but you have it anyways.”

“T-thank you.” Katara didn’t let her smile show in her eyes, an ability that her brother obviously hadn’t cultivated. Sokka somehow knew anyway. Call it sibling connection.

“So, why am I supposed to remember you, again?” Sokka hated not knowing the answer to a question. While Katara was busy feeling fuzzy from her older brother’s affirmation, he was festering.

“I, uh… I worked at Comm South for a while.” Katara sounded slightly embarrassed to admit it. It wasn’t the fact that she worked there that bothered her; it was the fact that she left.

Sokka’s head snapped up in realization.

“Sugar Queen!” 

“Is that like the whole ‘Fire Lord’ thing?” Katara raised an annoyed eyebrow.

“Hey, that one wasn’t my fault.” Sokka defensively returned to his work.

“So, ‘Sugar Queen’ was?” She began to cross her arms, but stopped herself just before breaking scrub.

“Admittedly. We weren’t much into using our interns’ actual names.” Sokka shrugged. “You were really good with the babies. We knew you were destined for the gynie squad from the beginning. Good to know my instincts are as keen as ever.”

“You know…” She continued after a few more quiet moments. “The other interns always picked on me. They called you and me twins sometimes.”

“Well, that’s not surprising.” He rolled his eyes. “People think that everyone from the South looks the exact same.”

“The fact that you’re dating someone  _ Fire Nation  _ though? Unheard of down there.”

Sokka did his best not to kill the patient right then and there.

“ _ Excuse _ me!?”

“Oh, everyone heard about what happened up North, Sokka. As your sister, I thoroughly approve.” She cocked her hip. “But, also as your sister, you gotta talk to him.”

“I told Aang not to tell anyone.” Sokka groaned.

“I don’t count as ‘anyone’ to him. You should know this by now.” She held out her hand for a suture guide. “He’s in his office. Go on.”

Sokka narrowly missed tripping over his own shoes as he darted towards the garment bin.

“Oh, and when you see Aang this morning, tell him I did my job.”

Sokka didn’t even have time to roll his eyes before he was frantically scrubbing out.

* * *

“H-hey.” Sokka knocked on the doorframe gently, immediately wanting to leave and try that again. What the hell kind of slick, sexy greeting was a stuttering ‘hey!?’

Zuko’s terrified eyes shot up. “H-hi!” A match made in heaven, truely.

“How have you been?” Sokka tried to come across as nonchalant. “I’ve been… well, I’ve been wanting to chat.”

The air settled with a palpable tension. Memories of Zuko turning robotic in front of a stupid-faced Sokka in a supply closet.

“Sorry. I’ve just been really busy.” Zuko scratched the back of his head. His nervous tick was a complete tell to a knowing Sokka.

“Yeah, I heard about your clinical trial with On Ji. She seems like a great resident.”

“She really is.”

Zuko’s office felt like a vacuum. The heater in the corner whirred to life as the silence only grew louder. Neither of them said a word.

“I can’t help but feel like I ruined things.” Sokka clenched his eyes shut in order to admit it. He felt like such a class act idiot.

“No, no, it was me.” Zuko caved under the embarrassment of the situation. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have called you out like that and–”

“I was scared.” Sokka winced, his heart doing its best not to collapse in on itself. He could practically feel as the blood pumped through the arteries and chambers and all of that mushy red gunk that Zuko could somehow make beautiful. And damn, was he angry at himself for ruining it.

“S-scared?” Zuko was describing himself.

“You probably hate me!” He began to disintegrate ever so slightly into an anxious puddle of emotion. “You have every right to after what I did.”

“After what  _ you  _ did?” Zuko stood from his chair.

“Zuko, I  _ left you.  _ We had a future – we had _ plans... _ and I left you!” His voice augmented with anger. “Dammit, Zuko, I see that every time I look at you. I see the worst, most twisted parts of me in that.”

“What about me, huh?  _ You _ had a future and  _ you _ had plans, but I wrecked that all for you.” Zuko’s eyes filled with unexpected tears as his voice raised. “Do you not think that I’ve taken full responsibility every day for the past  _ twelve years  _ for that ‘twisted’ part of you? That was all me, Sokka. I’m the reason why you’re so ‘twisted.’ I’m angry at myself, too!”

“You can admit it any time, you know.” Sokka tugged at his hair, his tear-soaked face turning towards the other’s.

“Fine! You want me to say it? I love you!” Zuko shouted initially as if he were declaring the hatred Sokka expected, then again, softer. “I love you.”

* * *

_ “If anyone has just cause why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.” _

_ That’s the line in every wedding that makes everyone hold their breath. Even if there’s no chance in hell that someone would stand up and stop the whole thing like in a romcom, everyone shares the communal anxiety that  _ maybe  _ today will be the day. _

_ If only they knew. _

_ Zuko sucked in a massive breath and took a massive step forward. The congregation and the wedding party both waited in tense anticipation as he hovered. _

_ As he took a step back into line with the other groomsmen, Sokka chuckled, knocking his shoulder and playing it off as a joke. What Zuko didn’t know was that Sokka’s heart was absolutely pounding, deflating from the lost hope of his best man sliding back into line. As he barely wheezed another breath in, the veins on his neck popped. Neither of them noticed the guests eagerly awaiting what would happen next. _

_ “No, no.” Zuko spins on his heel, turning to face the three under the wedding arch. “I-I love you. I love everything about you.” The sound of silence and shock flooded the open air. Zuko couldn’t bear to look at anyone’s eyes. He couldn’t even bear to think of what he was doing to anyone here. “I know I love you and that I want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me, too.” He finally glanced upward to watch as Yue shook her head. _

_ “Zuko, that’s so sweet of you… but I–” Yue blinked rapidly as Zuko cut her off. _

_ “Not you.” He dove into Sokka’s shocked blue eyes. “I know it sounds crazy–” _

_ Sokka took his hand. _

_ “Exactly.” His lips tugged into a smile made from half fear and half excitement, not to mention insane amounts of bridled love, now finally unleashed. _

_ Zuko took very good care of this guy after all, and Sokka didn’t want it to stop anytime soon. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I had to do it to them.


End file.
